Into The Mind
by Clez
Summary: The crew investigate a seemingly abandoned island... but they're in for a surprise. PLEASE R&R! Thanks!


INTO THE MIND  
  
  
  
The quiet hum in the engine room was strangely soothing. He walked past the exit, and into the room further, taking in his surroundings like a new land discovered. He had never been down here before, they had said it was too dangerous for him... but he didn't think so. He could handle himself.  
  
He was a 'Dagger'.  
  
A G.E.L.F.  
  
He knew how to take care of himself. He had done so on many occasions, and should anything happen now which may cause him harm, he would simply leave. He knew how to handle this kind of thing. He wasn't stupid.  
  
"Dagwood, is that you?" came a familiar voice from the doorway. He turned to see Anthony Piccolo, his friend, gazing at him wonderingly. He looked concerned.  
  
"Hello Tony," he greeted his surrogate big brother. He had grown to like Tony in a way that was completely unlike his relationship with any of the other members... and he liked it. He felt especially safe with Tony. Tony loved him... and he loved Tony.  
  
Tony stepped into the room, glancing momentarily up at the cavernous ceiling that appeared to be miles away, and then gently placed a hand on Dagwood's muscular shoulder. "It isn't safe in here Dag'," he said. "You might get hurt."  
  
Dagwood frowned. "I know how to take care of myself Tony. I am strong." He looked hurt.  
  
"I know that Dag', it's just that I'm not sure that Captain Bridger would like us being in here, ya' know?" Tony smiled warmly, and gave a gentle tug on Dagwood's sleeve.  
  
Dagwood looked once more around the room, and gazed back at his friend. "Okay."  
  
He would have to come and see the engine room some other time.  
  
"Okay, let's go." Tony led him out of the room, and they turned to go down the corridor.  
  
"Where are we going?" Dagwood asked innocently, his brow furrowing with curiousity.  
  
Tony glanced up at him. "Well, I thought you might be hungry." A smile crossed Tony's face, and Dagwood smiled too.  
  
"I am."  
  
  
  
SeaQuest glided gracefully through the water, covering a great amount of distance in a matter of mere seconds. She was a magnificent ship. Bridger's 'dream ship'.  
  
But for Lucas Wolenczak, it was just a ship where he was constricted by rules and boundaries. He was unable to be himself most of the time. He was required to be an adult. Not that he hated being treated like an adult... but he was only seventeen.  
  
He enjoyed listening to loud music, playing video games with Tony, and just being by himself sometimes. But most of the time, he was unable to do these things he loved so much, because he was asked to do things for other people, like hacking into restricted files for Bridger. He was tired of being pushed around, and he just wanted to get off the ship for a while. Take a break.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of the door opening awakened him from his reverie. He looked up as it opened fully.  
  
"Hey Luke," Tony greeted as he peered around the metal. "You wanna' come grab a bite to eat?" Behind him, Dagwood waited in the corridor, inspecting the wall with some interest. Lucas smiled at the child-like innocence of the Dagger.  
  
Looking around his room, the room he shared with Tony, he decided he wasn't doing any good sitting by himself in a quiet room, so he stood from the top bunk he slept in, and walked towards the door. "Sure."  
  
He joined them out in the corridor, and they began making their way towards the mess hall, Dagwood in tow.  
  
Tony struck up the conversation; "So, what's new?"  
  
It was a feeble attempt at conversation, especially from Tony, since he knew exactly what Lucas did in his spare time, and he usually preferred talking about girls... or something like that.  
  
Lucas glanced at Tony, and smiled inwardly. "You know exactly what's new Tony. You share a room with me. You have done for three months now."  
  
Tony grinned sheepishly, "I know... I just couldn't think of anything else to talk about right now." He laughed.  
  
Lucas laughed with him, whilst Dagwood innocently asked what was so funny. Tony took it as his responsibility to explain the humour; "Nothing really... sometimes, ya' just gotta laugh because there's nothing better to do." Clearly, Dagwood was still perplexed, but he seemed content with the explanation Tony had just given him, and he would keep quiet about his wonderings. For now at least.  
  
"So, how come you're going to the mess? Nothing better to do?" Lucas asked curiously, eyeing Dagwood temporarily.  
  
Tony indicated the Dagger with a quick motion of his head. "Big guy's hungry. To tell you the truth, I am too. Haven't eaten in at least...," he hesitated, providing Lucas with the perfect opportunity to tease.  
  
"Two hours?" Lucas said, a smile crossing his face suddenly as he laughed at Tony's faked expression of hurt.  
  
"Very funny," Tony replied, as they turned a corner.  
  
The door to mess was just down this corridor, and Lucas then realised just how hungry he was.  
  
  
  
The bridge was filled with hard-working officers who presented themselves in the best way possible. Their hair was neat, sometimes too neat, and their uniforms freshly pressed and straight from the wash. Captain Nathan Hale Bridger glanced round at them in admiration, and he realised just how lucky he was to have a crew like this. They all tried their hardest to please him, and they always pulled the job off with expertise.  
  
Lights flickered gently to show that everything was as normal, and officers worked quietly at their appropriate stations.  
  
Commander Jonathan Ford stood at the front of the bridge, assessing the calm situation, his dark face fixed in an expression of satisfaction. Cuban officer Chief Miguel Ortiz adjusted his headset at sensors, and stared hard at his console, ensuring all was as it should be. He flicked a switch happily, and sent another W.S.K.R. out to patrol the area. Lieutenant JG. Tim O'Neill sat at communications, a book open in his hands, the cover reading 'Brushing up on Spanish', and every now and then, he would mutter a foreign phrase to test his skills. Lieutenant James Brody yawned quietly at security, and inspected the radar screen, making sure that the area was clear of enemy vessels that could pose a threat. And finally, there was Ensign Lonore Henderson, who took care of her navigations station as if it was her own property. Her cuddly dog Adison sat on the edge of the console, staring down at her lifelessly with his beady eyes, and his cloth tongue lolled out of his mouth at her. She loved the soft toy and was unwilling to remove it from the bridge.  
  
Well, if it helped her to work as efficiently as was possible, then Bridger had no problem with it at all. He admired all of their dedication, and they had gone through some hard times together in these past few months, and some of their experiences had been frightening, and extremely dangerous. But they had stuck together and worked as a team through it all. Sure, Ford and Brody had their differences, and their petty arguments sometimes, but the tension was slowing disappearing as if it had never existed.  
  
He was bored with this silence, so he decided to get verbal confirmation of the obviously perfect situation.  
  
"Mr. Ortiz, have the W.S.K.R.S. picked up anything interesting lately?" he asked the young officer, who quickly turned back to him to reply.  
  
"Nothing at all really sir, just a couple of pods of whales, and a very lonely Great White shark on the prowl. Besides that... nothing." He gave the Captain a smile that displayed all of his youth that was concealed behind the stripes on his uniform.  
  
"Thank you, Chief," Bridger replied, returning the friendly smile. Ortiz replaced his headset, and continued with his work.  
  
The Captain turned to Brody, "How are things in your area, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Well...," Brody fumbled, "everything's fine Captain, all a-okay. We have nothing to worry about." Brody looked at his Captain apologetically, obviously sensing his superior's boredom.  
  
Bridger gave a sigh and sat back in his seat, glancing down at his own small console. After a few moments, he could no longer stand the silence.  
  
"Is it just me or is it like no one knows how to communicate aboard this ship?" he asked, frustrated.  
  
His crew stared back, bewildered. They looked at each other, and a few of them pulled their headsets down around their necks. They seemed stunned, like rabbits in a car's headlights.  
  
Bridger decided to elaborate; "You're telling me that none of you have anything interesting to say... at all?" The Captain couldn't believe his crew's reluctance to communicate, even to talk about something they had heard around the ship lately, a rumour perhaps.  
  
"Anything?" Bridger repeated, a little desperate.  
  
Still, the crew remained silent, all eyes fixed on him.  
  
"Come on," Bridger pleaded, "at least talk amongst yourselves about something. The silence is killing me."  
  
Ortiz spoke up, his voice just loud enough for everyone to hear; "Well sir... it's not like there's anything to talk about anyway." He glanced around at his fellow crewmembers momentarily and continued, "Not a whole lot has happened lately."  
  
Bridger sighed to himself.  
  
Suddenly, Ensign 'Lonnie' Henderson exclaimed something that seemed to excite her a great deal. "Sir, there's an island off to our port, seems to be deserted." After she had finished, she realized just how over-the-top her reaction had been, and she apologised.  
  
Bridger brightened though. "How far?"  
  
"Um... about, six hundred kilometres sir. Should we move in for a closer look?"  
  
Unable to bear his boredom any longer, Bridger crumbled, giving in to his curiousity as an explorer. "Yes, Ensign. Take us closer, but keep a safe distance. We don't know who this island belongs to, do we?"  
  
"Aye sir," came her delighted response, and for a moment she seemed smug. She quickly straightened, replacing the satisfied smile with a look of deep thought.  
  
Finally, something to do. Bridger settled back in his captain's chair, and sighed a relieved sigh.  
  
  
  
Piccolo considered the core of his apple, and the plate that had contained his lunch; a ham sandwich and a small salad. He was unsure why he was eating so healthily recently, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all seaQuest stocked was healthy food. Not a cheeseburger in sight, and chocolate was scarce.  
  
Oh well, he thought to himself, at least it's good food. He remembered his time in prison briefly, but banished the thoughts almost as quickly as they had arisen. He wished to forget those times as best as possible, and concentrate on the positive side of his life. He had a good home aboard seaQuest, and good friends; Lucas, Dagwood, Ortiz, O'Neill, Darwin and the others. His closest friends were Lucas, Dagwood and Darwin, as these were the people he could confide in when something was troubling him. They were always there for him, and he had never had anything like that before, and he planned to treasure it for as long as he possibly could.  
  
"Full, Tony?" Lucas asked, taking a sip from his glass of orange juice.  
  
Tony glanced at his own glass, taking it in his hand. "For once... yes," he replied, and drank down the remainder of his juice.  
  
"Wow, I'm stunned," said Lucas with a little laugh.  
  
Piccolo looked across the table to Dagwood, who seemed content eating two bananas, taking bites from each alternately. Tony smiled.  
  
After Dagwood had finished his fruit, Piccolo stood and said, "Whadda ya' say we go see Darwin? I'm sure he'll be glad to see his friends. Plus... I'm bored as hell." He eyed both Lucas and Dagwood in turn, with a look on his face that he knew would convince them.  
  
Dagwood and Lucas stood. "Sure, whatever," Lucas agreed, whilst Dagwood simply nodded.  
  
With that, the three of them left the mess hall to visit a certain dolphin.  
  
  
  
Miguel Ortiz yawned a small yawn, and rubbed his eyes to clear them of sleep. He shook his tired head, and glanced once more at his console. 'Mother', 'Loner' and 'Junior' were floating around the ship, scanning the area for anything interesting. As of yet, they had not discovered anything. He sent the W.S.K.R. named 'Loner' out farther to scan a little more ground, just for something to do. The machine failed to locate anything interesting. Ortiz sighed. He too was feeling the effects of boredom, and it was starting to get at him. He hoped it was possible to go to this island, if it was uninhabited, to search the area.  
  
He heard Lonnie speaking to the Captain, and he listened with interest.  
  
"Well, as far as I can tell, the island is uninhabited, sir. There are no ships in the area, and there are no signs of life for miles," she said.  
  
"Thank you," the Captain said to her, then he turned to Tim; "Mr O'Neill, can you find any traces of a communications centre on the island?"  
  
The communications officer replied quickly; "No sir. There are no facilities on that island at all. I agree with Ensign Henderson... there is no one on that island."  
  
Finally, the Captain moved over to his station. "What about the W.S.K.R.S., Mr. Ortiz? Have they discovered any signs of underwater colonies in the area?"  
  
"No sir. 'Mother' picked up a faint signal a little while ago. I investigated, and I found it was just an abandoned radio on the seabed. Other than that sir, there's nothing," Miguel informed the Captain.  
  
"So," Bridger began, resting on the back of Ortiz's chair with one hand, "do you think it's safe to send a team over to take a look?"  
  
At last, the chance to get off the ship, and do a little bit of interesting work. "Absolutely sir. I'd say it's as safe as houses over there." He glanced up and gave the Captain a quick smile.  
  
"Okay then. I'll take your word for it. You can take a team over, Chief... do a little investigating, find out what you can, and report back," Captain Bridger told him.  
  
Ortiz couldn't help the delighted smile that crossed his face, "Who should I take sir?" he asked after a couple of moments. He couldn't remember when he had last taken a team on a mission, and he wasn't certain of who to take with him.  
  
"Well, that's really up to you, but I suggest you at least take Piccolo and Lucas with you. They're getting incredibly restless," Bridger offered.  
  
It seemed wise enough to Ortiz that they tag along. Lucas could probably come in handy using his equipment, and Piccolo could scout the area along the shore.  
  
"What about Dr. Smith?" he asked. "Should I take her?"  
  
"I don't see why not. She isn't quite the science officer Westphalen was, but she has the same interests. What about Lieutenant Brody... for security?"  
  
Ortiz nodded, agreeing with the Captain's decisions. He had done this many times before, and Ortiz trusted his judgement.  
  
"Best brief your team, Chief," Bridger told him. "Use the ward room. Just make sure they understand what their job is... to explore the island. Nothing more. We're not looking to disturb the area."  
  
"Aye, Captain." Ortiz nodded again, removing his headset, and placing it on his console, standing. He moved away to allow his cover to take their place at his station.  
  
The Captain spoke loudly to Tim, "Mr. O'Neill, could you please call Dr. Smith, Mr. Piccolo and Lucas to the ward room please. Mr. Brody, join Ortiz."  
  
Brody did as he was asked, and moved over to Ortiz. With a nod from the Captain, they made their way to the wardroom.  
  
  
  
Everyone was present, and awaiting Ortiz's briefing, which they didn't know they were going to receive.  
  
"Where's the Cap'n?" Tony asked, his colourful accent altering his voice so that it differed from everyone else's.  
  
"The Captain isn't attending this briefing," Miguel told them.  
  
"Then what are we doing here?" Tony wondered.  
  
Miguel sat at the head of the table, feeling a strange sensation in his mind. He soon realised what it was. "Don't go in my head, Dr. Smith, please." He shuddered as the feeling dissipated.  
  
"Sorry," she apologised. "I'm just curious."  
  
Miguel wasn't completely comfortable with psychic people, but he really had nothing against them... not personally anyway.  
  
"You're all here because you've been chosen to be on the team to go ashore to explore the island," he informed them.  
  
Looks of surprise were exchanged, especially between Lucas and Tony.  
  
Then Jim asked the question he knew would be asked, "Who's in charge of this mission?" He eyed Miguel curiously.  
  
Miguel cleared his throat nervously. "I am."  
  
All Jim said in response was a simple, "Okay."  
  
"When do we go?" Lucas asked, eager to get going. He had been cooped up on the ship for a few weeks now, and he was obviously eager to break loose, if only for a few hours.  
  
"In half an hour. I want you all ready in the launch bay by the time I get there, understood?" He tried his best to sound commanding, and he hoped he hadn't just made a complete idiot of himself.  
  
Clearly he hadn't, as the small company all nodded and then awaited their dismissal. He told them they were dismissed, and stood to watch them leave.  
  
He knew that he would undoubtedly receive a little trouble from Piccolo at least, maybe a little from Lucas, but Smith and Brody would keep in line. He was unwilling to come across as a bad guy though. He didn't want to let rank get in the way of this mission's success.  
  
He wanted the mission to go well.  
  
  
  
Lucas seated himself in a chair in Bridger's quarters as he listened to the lecture he was receiving. To his right, Tony shifted uneasily.  
  
"I don't want to receive any reports from Ortiz about you two stepping out of line. Ortiz is in charge of this mission, so you will do exactly as he says, okay?"  
  
Lucas nodded. "Yes Captain."  
  
"Sure," Tony agreed. "No problem with Ortiz's authority sir."  
  
"It's nice to know you trust us, Captain," Lucas added quietly, looking up at Bridger with his sea-blue eyes.  
  
"It's not that Lucas. It's just that I worry about the safety of the teams I send ashore," Bridger explained. "No matter what, I'm responsible for everyone on that island, regardless of who's in charge."  
  
"But why us two in particular?" Lucas inquired.  
  
"Because... you two are the most likely to wander off to explore on you own, or together." He quickly added, "No offence."  
  
With a sigh, Lucas replied, "None taken." He knew it was true. He and Tony did have a tendency to wander off on their own to discover things for themselves.  
  
"Well," the Captain stated, "you had better get down to the launch. Mr. Ortiz will be waiting."  
  
Without another word, Lucas and Tony left the room, and headed down to the launch bay.  
  
When they arrived, everyone was present. Ortiz and Brody, dressed in their dark blue seaQuest jackets with white T-shirts underneath and dark blue trousers, and Dr. Smith in her blue shirt and black trousers. Lucas felt under-dressed in his blue shirt, white T-shirt and baggy jeans. He definitely felt out of place with his sneakers on. He glanced over at Tony in his light blue seaQuest shirt, white T-shirt and dark blue trousers.  
  
"Everybody ready to go?" Ortiz asked as he shouldered a bag, as did Brody. Dr. Smith too picked up a bag, no doubt filled with scientific instruments.  
  
"We takin' weapons?" Tony wondered.  
  
"Not anything drastic. We've got tasers, that's all." Before Tony could protest, Ortiz continued, "We've scanned the island, and it's deserted. There's nothing to worry about, Tony."  
  
Lucas nudged Tony lightly. "Don't worry. We'll be fine."  
  
The five of them made their way aboard the launch, and Ortiz and Brody took the helm. They placed headsets on, and Ortiz asked for permission to leave the ship.  
  
O'Neill's voice was heard through the speaker; "Launch three, you are clear to depart. Have a nice trip."  
  
Ortiz took hold of the small microphone on his headset, "Thanks, O'Neill, we'll bring you back a souvenir." Ortiz gave a small laugh, then began operating the launch alongside Brody.  
  
"See you in a few hours, Chief," the Captain said through the speaker. "Keep in touch."  
  
"Aye, Captain."  
  
Shortly afterwards, the launch began to move, gradually travelling upwards and forwards. In front of them, the launch bay doors opened smoothly, and they slid out through them gently into the ocean.  
  
  
  
"Launch three is clear of seaQuest sir. They're travelling at a steady speed towards the island. Their E.T.A. is about ten minutes," Ensign Henderson reported from her station, looking up at the Captain for acknowledgement. She received it as a nod, and he said, "Thank you, Ensign."  
  
Bridger ordered the view screen up, and they watched the small launch make its way through the water. He had asked Ortiz to contact every hour on the hour, and he trusted him to do so.  
  
  
  
The sun beat down on the beach as the team wandered the shore. They had only been on the island for a few minutes, and Lucas was still taking his initial scans of the area. Piccolo walked a little way away from the others, keeping in their sight, taking in their surroundings. Brody merely looked about himself at the trees and plants that were scattered about the shore in a disarranged pattern. Dr. Smith searched in her bag for a small test tube with which to collect a sample of the sand to analyse once back aboard seaQuest. Miguel stood and took in deep breaths of the cool sea air, before turning to his team to give them instructions.  
  
"Right, let's get started. Lucas, you and Piccolo take a walk down that way," he told them, indicating with his hand. He reached into his bag, and produced a taser, throwing it lightly to Piccolo. "Take this. All you have to do is see what's around, Lucas can take notes, and Piccolo, you keep an eye on the surrounding area. Keep in touch with your PAL. I want to know if you find anything of interest."  
  
With a nod, Lucas and Piccolo began moving in the direction Ortiz had indicated.  
  
"Brody, you keep watch in this area. Me and Dr. Smith will see what we can find over there in those trees. If you see anything worth worrying about, let me know." Miguel was actually quite impressed with himself. He had never given that many orders before in his life, and he actually found it quite refreshing.  
  
"Aye aye," Brody replied with a quick salute. He smiled and began to scout the area, taser in hand.  
  
Miguel smiled too and moved away into the thin line of trees with Wendy. She had told him on the launch to stop calling her Dr. Smith because it was too formal, and to start calling her by her first name. He had no problem with this on the mission, but as soon as they got back to seaQuest, he would probably revert back to his old ways. He sometimes referred to her as Doc', and he probably would do so once or twice on this mission.  
  
There were a lot of things so far which he had done on this mission and had never before done so in his career aboard seaQuest, and there were probably a lot of things he would do on this mission that he might never do again. It was strange, so he tried to get his mind off it by scanning the area with his small hand-held scanner, perhaps to try and locate some signs of life. So far, he hadn't had any luck. No matter, they were there to explore, and he intended to explore.  
  
  
  
Brody took in the sights around him, and took in another deep breath of fresh air. This would be a nice place for some R and R, if the captain would allow some after the mission perhaps. He doubted the captain would agree to that, so he decided to enjoy it whilst he could.  
  
It was strange. He could hear no birds. No small rodents. No insects. It puzzled him, and unsettled him a little, but realised it was just the security officer in him acting up again. It did that from time to time. He would be in a perfectly safe situation, and he would imagine things that could endanger him, or the people he was with. He smiled a little to himself, and took another little walk in the opposite direction.  
  
He held the taser in his hand, ready to use it if need be... but he doubted he would. This place looked safe enough for a few hours of exploration at least.  
  
  
  
Lucas glanced around himself at the vast variety of plant life, and he wondered why he had seen no trace of any animal life on this island so far. What could possibly be wrong for this island to be literally uninhabited? He decided he was merely letting his wild imagination get the better of him, so he turned his attention back to his scans. He had found nothing of interest so far, and he had no doubt that Ortiz had had the same problem. There weren't even any signs of life on the scans. No old burrows, no nests... no excrement. He shuddered a little at the last thought, and realised he was grateful he hadn't found any of that at all.  
  
"So Luke, we got anything to be worryin' about yet? Because I'm gettin' seriously bored stupid here." Tony turned to him, stopping him in his tracks, and gave him that look which just screamed 'tell me what I want to hear'. "Please tell me ya' found somethin'."  
  
"Sorry Tony, not a thing."  
  
"Nada?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Damn." Tony turned back to the tree he had been looking at, and touched it lightly. "This mission sucks, Luke. Can't we at least go back to seaQuest?"  
  
Lucas smiled and gave his reply, "Sorry, Tony, no can do. Ortiz is in charge remember? We have to do what he says, or we get in trouble."  
  
"I'd rather be in trouble. At least trouble's fun," was Tony's sour reply. He gave a loud sigh, and inspected his taser.  
  
"What is this piece of crap anyway? Ya' couldn't bring down a particle of dust with this thing. It probably doesn't even work," Tony continued to complain, irritating Lucas more than he realised.  
  
Deciding to ignore his unhappy companion, Lucas continued to scan the area.  
  
What the hell was that?  
  
There had been a tiny, but noticeable, reading on the monitor. He reached for his PAL and flicked it on, speaking into the small mouthpiece, "Chief? Ortiz, are you there?"  
  
"Yeah, Lucas. What's wrong?" came his reply.  
  
"Did you just get a reading on your scanner?" Lucas asked, catching Tony's attention. Tony walked over to him, glancing over his shoulder to take a look at the reading.  
  
"No, why? Is something wrong?" Ortiz said, a little concern flowing into his voice.  
  
Lucas shook his head. He hadn't got a lot of sleep the previous night. "No, don't worry about it."  
  
He flicked off the PAL, and replaced it in his belt. Maybe something was wrong with his scanner.  
  
"You seeing things, Luke?" Tony asked as he wandered back over to the tree he found so fascinating.  
  
Lucas' reply was a mumble, "Maybe."  
  
There was a small sound, and suddenly, Lucas felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder. He hissed through his teeth.  
  
He quickly glanced back down at his scanner. It was then that he realised there was something terribly wrong. A small reading had been displayed behind his position, but only for a few seconds. Now his vision was becoming unfocused, and it was difficult to see what he was looking at.  
  
He reached up to his shoulder, and retrieved a small blow dart.  
  
"Damn," he mumbled quietly. The scanner fell from his hand, hitting the soil with a small thud.  
  
Tony turned. "Now what's-," he trailed off when he saw Lucas. "What happened?" he said, walking over quickly upon seeing the dart.  
  
Lucas could manage no words, and he was finding standing up a difficult task. Before he could do anything, he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.  
  
  
  
"Oh my god, Lucas!" Piccolo knelt by his friend quickly. "Wake up Luke. Wake up!" He picked up the dart, and could come to only one conclusion.  
  
They weren't alone on this island.  
  
As he reached for his PAL to contact Ortiz, he felt a sudden sharp pain in his skull. He reached up and held his head for a moment. Perhaps he was getting a migraine.  
  
Then there was another sharp pain, and another, and another.  
  
This is no migraine! he concluded as the pains kept on coming, increasing in intensity and length.  
  
He cried out loudly when he received an extremely long, unbelievably painful mental blow. The pain was becoming too much to handle, and he was losing consciousness. He attempted to fight it, but it was unbearable. It was as if a thousand construction workers had all let off charges inside his head at once.  
  
He cried out again, louder, hoping maybe Ortiz or Brody, or perhaps even Dr. Smith would hear.  
  
And then it was too much to bear. He fell to his side, and the blackness swept over him.  
  
  
  
Wendy's head shot up instantly. "Tony?" she said upon hearing the faint cry from off in the distance.  
  
"We're the only ones here. What the hell is going on?!" Ortiz said as he too rose from his crouching position. They had been looking at an interesting plant species, but now their minds were on an entirely different track.  
  
Ortiz plucked his PAL from his belt, and spoke into it, "Piccolo? Lucas?" Nothing. "Is anyone there?"  
  
Still there was no answer.  
  
"Lucas?! Piccolo?!" Ortiz was becoming very worried, and deeply frustrated. Something was going on, and he wanted to know what it was.  
  
"Brody?" he tried instead. When he received no reply, he turned to Wendy, "Is it possible for you to find them mentally. I can't reach them... maybe you can get to them psychically."  
  
"I can give it a go. I've done it in the past."  
  
For what seemed like an eternity, which was only but a few minutes, Wendy stood absolutely still, her face showing her concentration.  
  
She let out a deep gasp. "I can't find them. Lucas, Tony, Jim... nothing. There simply... not able to respond. Something's happened to them."  
  
"Dammit!" Ortiz said loudly, showing his frustration. He was deeply worried about his team, about their safety. He wanted to know what was going on.  
  
With no warning, Wendy clutched her head, and gasped.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, touching her shoulder gently.  
  
"I... I don't know." Then she looked up at Ortiz in horror. "There's somebody here!"  
  
Ortiz let out a long cry of pain when something that could only have been a bullet struck him in the left shoulder, knocking him off his feet and to the ground. He cried out again as the searing pain intensified beyond belief.  
  
Wendy screamed momentarily, then she was at his side to help. His eyes were closed tight against the pain, and he could feel the flow of blood from the wound.  
  
"Oh my god, this is bad, Miguel. We have to get you back to seaQuest. If we don't, you're probably going to bleed to death."  
  
His breathing had become irregular, and he realised he must have gone into shock. He had never been shot before, and he wasn't handling it well.  
  
Wendy touched the wound gently, but it still caused him to cry out momentarily. Then she too collapsed, in great pain. All she could manage before she passed out was one word; "Psychic."  
  
Ortiz suddenly found it very hard to focus, and he could feel himself blacking out. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was a looming figure approaching him.  
  
  
  
Piccolo awoke suddenly, rising a little too fast for his legs to compensate. He fell backwards against the tree he had been admiring, and took deep breaths. He looked about himself to discover he was alone. Lucas was nowhere to be seen... or found.  
  
"Lucas!" he shouted, hoping that his friend had gone off for a walk, perhaps to find Ortiz and the others, but then he realised that was beyond belief. Somebody must have taken him.  
  
He began walking back towards where he had left the others, and soon saw the area off in the distance.  
  
It didn't take him long to reach it once he set off into a jog, and he found that Brody was nowhere in sight. He glanced to his left to see Dr. Smith laying on the ground about twelve metres away, and she was unconscious. He ran over, and skidded to a halt by her side. He was just about to attempt to wake her when he saw the blood on the ground near her. He could see no wound, and he soon found himself in a state of panic.  
  
He began shaking the Doctor, gently at first, then a little more insistent. "Wake up Doc', please."  
  
As if on command, she opened her eyes, just as Brody stumbled around the corner, looking like how Piccolo felt. He seemed bewildered, and if he had suffered the same trauma as Piccolo, then he could understand it.  
  
"Where...?" Dr. Smith began, looking about her. Then she seemed to awaken fully as she glanced down at the ground.  
  
Piccolo followed her line of sight. "What happened?"  
  
"Miguel...," was all she could manage at first, but after she shook her head a little, she clarified, "Miguel got shot."  
  
Piccolo couldn't believe what he was hearing.  
  
"He was bleeding badly. It was a deep wound, but I passed out before I could do anything for him." she rambled.  
  
Piccolo took hold of both her shoulders. "Where did he get shot?"  
  
She looked up at him. "In the shoulder. I've never seen a shoulder wound bleed so badly. We have to find him, or he'll probably bleed to death."  
  
"Let's just think for a minute here," Brody said as he knelt beside them, rubbing his obviously aching head. "Someone must have taken him somewhere, and unless they wanted to watch him... die, they must be treating him."  
  
"But why not just knock him out like they did with us?" Piccolo asked.  
  
"Maybe they saw him as more of a threat," Dr. Smith offered.  
  
"What? Miguel? No, why would they? He hates it when he sees someone kill a spider. He wouldn't hurt anybody," Brody explained, perhaps unwilling to except the fact that someone saw Ortiz as more of a threat than him.  
  
"But he was the leader of our team. Perhaps whoever attacked us saw him as a threat and thought he needed more desperate measures to bring down," Wendy said, looking between the two remaining men.  
  
"You describe it like we're talking about a rhino," Piccolo complained, returning to what he was best at.  
  
Brody turned to Piccolo, a look of curiousity crossing his face. "Where's Lucas?"  
  
  
  
Captain Bridger hadn't expected them back so soon. They were at least two hours early.  
  
He arrived in the launch bay to see what was worth rushing back for. He watched as Piccolo, Wendy and Brody climbed the steps up to him. He glanced behind them to see an empty ladder. He decided Ortiz must be checking the launch was secure. "Where's Lucas?" he asked, looking at Piccolo in particular for the answer.  
  
"Someone took him sir. They shot him with a tranq' and took him," Piccolo explained.  
  
"Why didn't you stop them?" the Captain persisted, not believing his ears.  
  
"Because I was unconscious on the floor at the time, sir. They knocked us out, psychically," Piccolo replied.  
  
Wendy reached up to touch her dark hair, and Bridger took hold of her hand. "Where did this come from?"  
  
"What Captain?"  
  
"This! This blood! Where did it come from?!" he asked, allowing a little more anger to show in his voice than was necessary. It wasn't their fault someone had taken Lucas.  
  
After clearing her throat, Wendy said, "It's not Lucas', if that's what you're thinking."  
  
Bridger sighed a sigh of relief.  
  
"It's Miguel's, Captain," she told him.  
  
He stared with wide eyes, "What? What the hell happened to Ortiz, and where is he?"  
  
"Somebody shot him sir, and then they took him too. We think it was the same people who took Lucas. I just hope they know how to take care of him, or he's going to die."  
  
  
  
Lucas stirred slowly, hearing almost no sound. There was a pain in his head, and he moved slowly to avoid increasing it unnecessarily. He rolled onto his side and slowly opened his eyes.  
  
"Oh my god," he said quietly, scrambling into a sitting position inside the cage he was trapped in. Across the room from him, strapped to a medical table of some kind, blood staining his white T-shirt, was Ortiz. He was unconscious, and an oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose. He appeared to have been shot, and he seemed quite pale.  
  
Lucas searched frantically for a way out of the cage, but failed to locate even one weak bar.  
  
"There is no way out of there," said a voice in his head, which startled him a considerable amount. His eyes travelled around the room to try and find who had spoken to him psychically.  
  
As he searched, a woman and a man walked into the room, dressed in camouflage gear. The woman was quite tall with sandy blonde hair, and the man had short brown hair and he was a little taller than his female companion.  
  
"We allowed the other members of your team to leave the island," the woman said to him, whilst the man merely stared blankly at him, sending a shiver down his spine.  
  
"Can't you speak aloud?" Lucas asked, standing inside the cage, his voice containing anger, and a little fear.  
  
"We can. We just choose to explore our gifts," said the man, cocking his head in an action that reminded Lucas of an animal.  
  
"What did you do to him?" Lucas demanded, nodding towards Miguel, concerned for his friend.  
  
The woman smiled. "We took more drastic measures to overwhelm him. That is all." She spoke as if they had done no wrong.  
  
This angered Lucas. "You shot him!"  
  
"Yes," said the man, plainly, glancing back at the unconscious Ortiz. "Only as a precaution. We saw him as a threat."  
  
"Why?!" Lucas knew that becoming angry was no way to deal with this desperate situation, but he could think of no other action.  
  
The woman assumed a confused posture, eyeing Lucas curiously. "He is the leader of your team. Is he not?"  
  
"Yes he is... was, but that doesn't mean you had to shoot him. Look at him... he's bleeding to death! You probably killed him!" Lucas now grasped the bars of the cage tightly, once more testing their strength. As before, they were unbelievably strong.  
  
The man's brow furrowed. "We will not allow him to die. We need him."  
  
Lucas ceased his testing of the bars to look up at the man. "Why do you need him?"  
  
Suddenly, Lucas felt a sharp pain in his head, like electricity shooting around. He gave a cry, and fell to his knees.  
  
"There is a time and place for curiousity. This is neither. Allow us to work on your leader, and no harm will come to you." Again, it was the woman's voice. Perhaps the man did not possess as much power as her, or maybe he simply preferred to use his talent to other extents. Right now, Lucas didn't want to know.  
  
He moved to the back of the cage, and sat against the wall, and watched quietly as the two captors worked to save Miguel.  
  
  
  
"I don't understand," Ford said loudly in the wardroom. "The scans showed that the island was deserted."  
  
Bridger nodded. "Yes, so what happened?"  
  
Piccolo was the one to answer for the small remainder of the company that had travelled ashore; "We've got no idea, Captain. All I can think of, is that somebody has some pretty far-out technology which can fool our sensors."  
  
"I didn't see any traces of buildings, or any kind of facility on that island at all," contributed O'Neill from his place at the far side of the room.  
  
A small amount of the staff were all present in the room; Bridger, Ford, Dr. Smith, Brody, Henderson and O'Neill. Piccolo was present because he had been there when the incident had taken place. Darwin had swam past in his tubes a couple of times to try and see what was going on.  
  
No one could figure the situation out.  
  
"Alright," Bridger began, his voice commanding, but soft at the same time, "let's go with what we know; we found an island, seemingly uninhabited, and I sent a team ashore, comprising of Ortiz, Brody, Dr. Smith, Piccolo and Lucas. Within the first hour, Piccolo, Brody and Dr. Smith return, bringing news of Miguel and Lucas' capture, and Miguel's potentially serious injury.  
  
"Now what we have to do is try and locate the culprits, and retrieve Miguel and Lucas safely, without any more of this crew suffering injury, or capture."  
  
The crew listened, and nodded together, agreeing with the Captain's assessment of the situation. Piccolo appeared agitated, so the Captain inquired.  
  
"I can't just sit here, sir, knowing that we could be doing something to help Lucas and Ortiz... that I could be doing something," he told the Captain, a look of frustration crossing his face.  
  
Bridger attempted to reassure the young Seaman; "Mr. Piccolo, there isn't really a lot anybody can do at the moment. We have to make smart decisions, not just rush in and hope all will work out in our favour... when odds are, it'll just go terribly wrong." He regarded Piccolo with a certain responsibility. He felt as if he had taken Tony under his wing, and he had to teach him. Piccolo had been released from prison to serve on the seaQuest, and as captain of the ship, it was Bridger's responsibility that the young man get a fair chance... and be protected.  
  
"Permission to speak freely, sir?" Piccolo asked, shifting a little in his seat.  
  
Bridger nodded.  
  
Piccolo stood, his hands on the table, leaning towards Bridger, all of his emotion showing on his face.  
  
"Screw the odds."  
  
Bridger was taken aback, but before he could even reply, Piccolo had stormed from the room, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.  
  
"Well," was all Bridger could manage for a while, before he added, "I think we know how Piccolo feels about that idea."  
  
  
  
He couldn't believe what he had just heard; We have to make smart decisions, the Captain had said. Lives were at stake, and Bridger wanted to sit around and play the waiting game, hoping for an answer to their problems to come up and smack him in the face.  
  
Well Tony wasn't going to just wait... he had to act. If he waited around, Ortiz could die, and the people who had taken them would do something unthinkable to Lucas. No, Piccolo was not going to just wait around.  
  
He threw open the door to the sea deck, slamming it behind him, and kicked the nearest object, which happened to be a large red ball. It flew straight through the air, and landed in the water of the moon pool. Tony took deep breaths to attempt to calm himself, turning to rest his head on the wall. Outbreaks of fury wasn't going to help his friends. It would probably just get him thrown in the brig for a few hours to cool down. He didn't want that to happen.  
  
Then the ball hit him in the back of the head. He felt the water from the ball on his hair, and heard the ball hit the floor with a small thump. He listened as it bounced gently away, then turned to give whoever had launched the ball a piece of his mind... then stopped as he realised it had been Darwin. The dolphin chattered happily to himself, before speaking to Tony through the vocorder, "Tony angry. Darwin happy. Tony play with Darwin. Tony happy."  
  
Piccolo sighed and moved over to the side of the tank. He placed one hand on the dolphin's head, and explained, "I can't play right now, Darwin. I have to figure a few things out."  
  
"What is wrong? Why Tony angry?" Darwin wondered, as his grey head bobbed in and out of the water slowly.  
  
Piccolo crossed his arms, resting them on the side of the pool. "I have to help Ortiz and Lucas."  
  
"Ortiz and Lucas in trouble?" asked Darwin, his soulful eyes fixed on Piccolo, searching for the answers he seeked to know.  
  
"Yeah," Piccolo told him, "and they need help."  
  
"Darwin help."  
  
"I don't know whether you can help, buddy. We don't really know where they are." Tony rested his chin on his arms, listening to the sound of Darwin's translated voice.  
  
"Lucas hurt?" inquired the dolphin curiously, probably concerned for his friend's well-being.  
  
"No, he was fine the last time I saw," Tony replied, his eyes travelling around the room, then settling back on Darwin.  
  
Darwin bobbed in and out of the water a little, then asked, "Ortiz hurt?"  
  
Piccolo hesitated, uncertain as to whether to tell Darwin about it or not. He decided that just because Darwin was an animal, he still deserved to know what was going on. "Yeah... Ortiz is hurt."  
  
Darwin made a little sad noise, a noise which the vocorder failed to translate, and asked another question, "Ortiz hurt bad?"  
  
"Maybe," came Tony's short reply. Then he added, "He got shot, and the Doc' couldn't help him."  
  
"Why Dr. Smith not help Ortiz. Ortiz hurt... Doctor help. Doctor bad," Darwin rambled a little to himself.  
  
"No, no, Dr. Smith isn't bad. She couldn't help him because she passed out. Someone attacked us... psychically," Piccolo explained, hoping the dolphin understood.  
  
"Psychically? Darwin not understand."  
  
Tony thought for a moment how to clarify to Darwin without confusing him further. "Some people have a power, where they can talk to people without moving their mouth. They can tell them things inside their minds so no one else can hear. But some of these people can use this power to hurt people. Like they did with me, Dr. Smith and Brody."  
  
"Darwin understand. Silent talk," the dolphin said, his mouth opening a little, showing tiny rows of sharp teeth.  
  
Tony nodded. "Yeah, silent talk. That's right."  
  
"Darwin help. Find Lucas and Ortiz," Darwin offered, but Tony had to decline the dolphin's help.  
  
A noise from the other side of the room caught Tony's attention. "Hey! Who's there?" he called, standing to his full height, which he knew wasn't as intimidating as he pretended it was.  
  
To his surprise, it was Dagwood who emerged from behind some barrels, fiddling with his fingers, looking ashamed.  
  
"I'm sorry Dag', I didn't know it was you. What were you doin' back there?" Tony said in apology. He hated shouting at Dagwood, even if it was by accident.  
  
"I was hiding," Dagwood replied as he moved over to Tony. "I thought you might have been Commander Ford. He doesn't like me being in here very much." The look on Dagwood's face pleaded to Tony. He couldn't resist giving him sympathy.  
  
"Why do you think that?" he asked the large Dagger.  
  
"Because I should be working, and Darwin is not an officer," Dagwood explained.  
  
"Darwin is officer. Darwin is Ensign," the dolphin interjected happily.  
  
Dagwood smiled briefly at the dolphin, then turned back to Tony.  
  
"Don't listen to Ford, he's just grouchy. You're allowed in here if you want to be in here," Piccolo eased his large friend. This seemed to please Dagwood slightly, but he still looked troubled.  
  
"What's wrong, big guy?" Tony asked, cocking his head in confusion.  
  
Dagwood fumbled for a moment, before asking, "Is it true what you said, Tony?" He hesitated for a moment, then continued, "About Ortiz and Lucas. Are they in trouble?"  
  
Tony nodded. "Yeah. Did you hear everything from back there?"  
  
"I have good hearing Tony. I am a Dagger," Dagwood said, nodding.  
  
Tony simply stood for a moment, regarding Dagwood with a certain admiration. It was true what some of the crew said... he did feel, and act, like a big brother for Dagwood. He was innocent, and people could take advantage of him, and Tony didn't like to see that with anybody, especially his friends. He felt responsible for the big guy, and he felt the need to protect him, no matter what.  
  
"Can I help?" asked Dagwood quietly. Tony only just heard.  
  
"Sure, why not? We need all the help we can get on deck. No offence Darwin, it's just we ain't supposed to go ashore until we understand the situation. At least that's what the Cap'n said to us up in the ward room." Tony could feel his anger pushing its way up inside him again... but he wouldn't allow another outburst. "I just can't believe he wants to play the waitin' game whilst Ortiz and Lucas are in danger. I mean, for God's sakes, Ortiz might die!"  
  
Dagwood and Darwin eyed him, perplexed, having never before seen his temper at this level. He was practically shouting.  
  
Tony took in a deep breath, and glanced at the two in turn. "I'm sorry guys, it just bugs me."  
  
"Bugs you?" Dagwood was, yet again, in a state of confusion.  
  
Tony rested against the side of the pool to once again explain a figure of speech.  
  
  
  
He could feel the restraints holding him down, so he knew that struggling against them would be pointless... and painful. He could feel the dampness of the blood on his shirt, and for a while, he felt nauseated. The last thing he remembered before he had blacked out was a figure looming over him like Death. He had lost contact with his team, and he felt guilty about not keeping a watch out for his own safety.  
  
Then he opened his eyes. He didn't recognise anything around him, so he knew he wasn't aboard seaQuest. Well, the restraints had told him that, but he thought... he didn't know what to think. The walls to the room were in need of a re-paint, and there was the faint smell of blood in the air. Again, he had to resist the urge to vomit. He looked to his wounded shoulder, bracing himself for what he would see. To his surprise, it was bandaged. Not exactly medical school quality, but as long as it stopped him from bleeding to death, he was comfortable with it.  
  
"Ortiz?"  
  
He recognised the voice, and it took him a while to determine who it was.  
  
"Ortiz?!" the voice called again, more insistent.  
  
"Lucas?" he said, wincing slightly as he moved a little, pain throbbing in his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah. You okay?"  
  
He cast a glance over to the side of the room, to his right, to see Lucas in a rather large cage. He didn't appear to be injured, so that was alright. If something had happened to another member of the team, especially Lucas, he wouldn't know how to forgive himself.  
  
"I think so. I'm not sure," he replied, "Where are we?"  
  
"I don't know," Lucas said. "But I think we might still be on the island."  
  
Ortiz knew that couldn't be possible, but he didn't argue nonetheless. This was a bad situation as it was. Arguments weren't going to get them anywhere.  
  
"What's goin' on? What are we doing here?" Ortiz asked, his confusion now overwhelming.  
  
Lucas considered something for a moment, then replied, "Psychic people. They... fixed your shoulder. They said they needed you." Lucas seemed as confused as Ortiz, which was a little frustrating.  
  
"Need me? For what?" he asked, now way beyond the point of confusion.  
  
"You'll have to wait and see."  
  
He shook his head, a little too violently. He knew he had just heard the voice of a psychic person, a woman, speaking to him. But he still hated it. He hated people going in his head... no matter what. It frightened him a little, if nothing else.  
  
He heard them walk into the room, and he looked in the direction of the door, to see a man and a woman walking towards him. The woman wore a smile, whilst the man simply glared. He hated them already.  
  
"No harm will come to you, as long as you cooperate."  
  
"Get out of my head!" he cried, closing his eyes, and facing the ceiling. He knew he may have just over-reacted, but he was still against the psychic link he was undergoing with this woman.  
  
"He is reluctant," said the man to his companion.  
  
She laughed. "I know. He... hates us. Our kind."  
  
Ortiz glared at her. "I don't hate your kind. I just hate you."  
  
Bad move, he thought as a pain shot through his head, obviously caused by the woman.  
  
"You don't even know me," she said to him, moving closer, running a hand through his hair.  
  
"Get off me," he warned, aware that the threat was hollow as long as he was strapped to the table.  
  
She laughed again, walking round to the other side of him.  
  
Ortiz cried out as she applied pressure to his wounded shoulder. He clenched his teeth to keep from crying out a second time. She ceased her physical torment. Again, she attacked him psychically. He cried out again.  
  
"Leave him alone!" Lucas shouted from the other side of the room.  
  
Ortiz opened his eyes to see the man hold out his hand towards Lucas, psychically hurling him against the wall inside the cage. Lucas failed to move, and he appeared to be unconscious.  
  
The woman smiled her appreciation to the man, then turned back to Ortiz, stroking his face. He attempted to resist, but she simply took hold of his hair tightly.  
  
"You care for the boy," she said, ensuring Ortiz looked at her whilst she spoke.  
  
Ortiz refused to speak in reply. He felt her reaching further into his mind, seeking what she wanted to know for herself. He was powerless to stop her. He knew of mental barriers. Dr. Smith had spoken of them often, but he didn't know how to use them. As long as he was here, this woman had access to anything he knew or felt.  
  
"You feel responsible for him," she continued. "You want us to let him go."  
  
This time though, he did reply, "You don't need him. Do what you want with me... just let him go."  
  
The woman shook her head. "No, he is our backup. If what we plan for you fails, then we still have the boy... Lucas is it?"  
  
Ortiz clenched his fists, feeling an irresistible urge to harm the woman. The pain shot through his head again. None of his thoughts were his own anymore.  
  
"Miguel, why do you fight us? You know it is useless," the man said as he moved closer, but still keeping a distance for some reason.  
  
Risking further harm, Ortiz took the only action he was able to at that time. "Because you're pathetic." Through the pain of his punishment from the woman, he continued, "You abuse your gifts, torture people for the information you want. You don't have the guts to be a real person. You're afraid."  
  
The man struck him around the face, then walked around to his companion, moving her aside. He then punched Ortiz's shoulder, hard, causing Ortiz to cry out painfully.  
  
"It would be better if you kept your opinion to yourself," he said to him in his mind.  
  
Keeping his eyes closed, recovering from the initial pain, Ortiz retorted, "My opinion isn't my own here. You take it, and then you punish me for it. You're a spineless son-of-a-bitch and you know it."  
  
The man struck him again.  
  
"Steven! Stop it!" the woman ordered, but the man refused to pay any attention to her.  
  
He unfastened the straps which bound Ortiz to the table, and knocked him off of it.  
  
Ortiz landed hard on his side. He glanced quickly at his bandaged shoulder, noticing the blood which had seeped through. He rose to his knees, resting his right hand on the floor.  
  
The man named Steven kicked him hard in the stomach, causing him to fall on his side once more.  
  
Ortiz looked up at him, seeing the look of anger plastered across the man's hard features. He saw him rise his hand.  
  
Suddenly, Ortiz flew backwards, and against the bars of the cage which contained the unconscious Lucas. Pain shot through his back, and he collapsed to the floor, spitting a small amount of blood onto the floor as he breathed deeply, attempting to recover.  
  
Then the pain in his head returned, and he looked to the woman, noticing the look of concentration on her face.  
  
But this time, the pain was overwhelming, and he could feel himself passing out once more. He allowed himself to fall into unconsciousness, desperate to escape his beating from the man.  
  
The last thing he heard, was the man's voice as he shouted at the woman.  
  
  
  
Brody worked quietly at his station, his mind racing. He could remember most of what had happened on the island, yet his mind still fogged in certain places, hiding small details about the incident from him. He seeked to know more, but was unable to do so. It frustrated him a great deal, but there was nothing he could do about it. He just had to keep it together for as long as he could.  
  
"So Jim, how are you doing?" asked a certain commander as he walked up to his station.  
  
Brody glanced up at his superior, then gazed back down at his console, running another scan to ensure the ship was secure. "I'm fine, Commander."  
  
"Really?" The Commander seemed doubtful. "You don't look it."  
  
Brody inhaled deeply. "Really. I'm fine." He hoped that Ford would go away soon, as he could feel himself getting a little edgy.  
  
Ford cleared his throat. "You're sure?"  
  
"Look, I said I'm fine. Just leave me alone!" Brody snapped before he even realised what he was saying. He gave himself a mental kick, but was unable to calm himself properly, as Ford continued.  
  
"I was only asking, Jim. I'm worried, that's all."  
  
"Well don't bother. I'm the one who should be worried." The whole bridge crew were looking directly at them now, but still, Brody persisted. "I'm worried about Miguel, and Lucas, because I'm the one who was supposed to be watchin' out for them. And I didn't. I messed up. There, I said it... I messed up. Ya' happy now? I'm not all that great. Satisfied?"  
  
Without saying another word, he stormed from the bridge, leaving a bewildered Ford behind.  
  
  
  
"All I'm saying is that the team that went ashore are a little... edgy. That's all," Ford said as he moved around the seated Bridger. The lights were a little dimmer than usual in the ward room, but Ford chose to ignore it.  
  
"Maybe they're just tired, Commander. You don't know," Bridger said in reply as he turned his chair to face his second-in-command.  
  
Ford shook his dark head. "No. That's not it, Captain. Something's wrong with them. You saw Piccolo in the meeting, and just now on the bridge... well, let's put it this way; I was lucky to escape with what I did get from Brody." He seated himself across from the Captain. "There's something wrong with them. I know it."  
  
"Well they went through a very unnerving ordeal, Commander. I think it best that we leave them alone. They're all worried about Lucas and Ortiz. They feel responsible. I know I would."  
  
"That's different," Ford offered, certain that his opinion was a correct one.  
  
"No, Commander, it's not. It's very much the same. Put yourself in their shoes... how would you feel?"  
  
The Captain had his eyes set on him, probing him for answers.  
  
Ford could not bring himself to answer. The Captain already knew his answer anyway. Ford supposed he couldn't blame Brody and Piccolo for their behaviour. It was perfectly natural.  
  
They just had to give them some space.  
  
  
  
Lucas awoke suddenly, rising quickly into a seated position against the back wall of the cage. He closed his eyes, gathering himself for a moment, a little unnerved by what had just happened to him.  
  
Then he remembered what had caused it, and he looked up to the table, only to find it empty.  
  
A small noise from the other side of the cage caught his attention, and he looked over to see Ortiz lying unconscious on the floor on his side, his back to Lucas. His dark blue seaQuest shirt had been replaced, and his breathing appeared to be quite shallow.  
  
He crawled over to him, placing a gentle hand on him. He was definitely alive, but he seemed to be having trouble breathing normally.  
  
Lucas noticed handcuffs locked about Ortiz's wrists, and he found himself wondering why they were necessary. Their captors could paralyse them with a single thought... but he didn't know what went on in their minds. He didn't want to know either.  
  
As Lucas placed his hand on Ortiz's left shoulder, he could feel the material was damp. He crawled around to the other side of his friend, to avoid moving him, just in case, and peeled back the blue shirt.  
  
"Oh man," he muttered quietly to himself. Fresh blood had seeped through the bandage, now soaking it. Lucas was no doctor, but he knew that this wasn't good at all. He had seen the woman press on the wound with some force, as a kind of torment, but he knew that this excess bleeding couldn't have been caused by that alone. Something must have happened whilst Lucas was unconscious.  
  
As he touched the wound, Ortiz woke with a gasp. He looked up at Lucas, and his brown eyes seemed full of pain.  
  
"Are you okay?" Lucas asked, concern flowing through him.  
  
Ortiz attempted to rise, but failed, before replying, his voice weak, "No. Not really." He too noticed the handcuffs, but made no comment on them.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Ortiz regarded Lucas for a few moments before replying. "I think I insulted Steven. The man. He wasn't too pleased with me."  
  
Lucas could come to his own conclusions. He didn't need to be told what had happened. Ortiz had been punished by the psychic man, physically, instead of psychically.  
  
"I think he broke a couple of my ribs," Ortiz continued, taking a chance in attempting to rise again. This time, he managed to rest back against the bars of the cage in a seated position. He seemed far from comfortable, but again, he didn't complain.  
  
"We've gotta get you back to seaQuest," Lucas said. Ortiz nodded. "Your shoulder's in a bad state," Lucas continued, telling Ortiz what he probably already knew.  
  
Ortiz closed his eyes for a while, and Lucas thought he was slipping back into unconsciousness. But then he opened his eyes again. "Lucas, we have to get you out of here."  
  
"What? You need medical attention. I'm fine."  
  
"For now." Ortiz was succeeding in confusing Lucas, if nothing else. "They said if what they plan for me goes wrong... they're gonna use you instead."  
  
Lucas now felt a little more afraid. Seeing what they had done to Ortiz was bad enough, and if he had to go through it too, he probably wouldn't handle it so well.  
  
"We've really gotta get out of here." Lucas began searching around the sides of the cage for a loose bar again, proceeding to kick them to try and loosen one. He was becoming a little desperate. He continued to kick them, even after his foot began aching through his sneaker.  
  
"Lucas!" Ortiz called to him, but he ignored him.  
  
In the corner of his eye, he could see Ortiz struggling to pull himself up with the aid of the bars. "Lucas, stop!"  
  
But then a bar came loose. He felt it rattle in its place, and well as heard it.  
  
With one more hard kick, the bar gave way, coming right out of its lodging, falling to the ground with a clang. The gap was quite small, but Lucas was certain he could squeeze through.  
  
"You did it," Ortiz exclaimed in surprise, smiling a little.  
  
"Do you think you can fit through there?" Lucas asked him, not willing to leave without his friend.  
  
Ortiz considered the opening for a while. "I think so." He nodded.  
  
"Okay then," Lucas said, and then began to squeeze through the gap. In no time, he was on the other side of the bars, looking in at Ortiz.  
  
Ortiz moved over to the opening, and wedged through it, with a little more difficulty than Lucas. He gave a small cry as he struck his shoulder on the way through, but made no further fuss over it.  
  
Lucas moved over to a computer console, seeking a way out, hoping to find a schematic of the facility in the database. It wasn't long before he had found one.  
  
"What's that?" he thought aloud as a red light pulsed on screen, showing not far from his position.  
  
"I'll see if I can find a door," Ortiz offered, and then moved away to search.  
  
"Oh my god," Lucas muttered as the red light moved away, as Ortiz had a short while ago. "Ortiz, come back over here a minute. I want you to take a look at something."  
  
Again the red object moved exactly the same as Ortiz had done.  
  
"Look." Lucas pointed at the screen, indicating the red light in particular.  
  
"What is it?" Ortiz asked as he stared at it.  
  
"I think it's you," Lucas said as he gazed up at his friend.  
  
"What? How?" Ortiz looked extremely confused.  
  
Then Lucas realised. "Your shoulder!"  
  
Ortiz looked across to his shoulder, glancing back at Lucas in horror.  
  
"Clever boy, Lucas."  
  
"Damn," was all Lucas managed before he heard them enter. The man and the woman stared at the two of them, their anger clear on their features.  
  
The man's hand extended, psychically sending Ortiz flying across the room.  
  
He landed hard on the floor, groaning in pain. He kept his face down, breathing heavily.  
  
Then the man turned on Lucas. He sent Lucas across the room also, slamming him against a wall near Ortiz. Lucas landed on his side, unconscious.  
  
  
  
Steven simply considered the two captives as they lay on the floor, one out cold, the other seemingly in a great deal of pain. The boy would go back into the cage, restrained. But the man... he was ready to leave. Ready to carry out the task he wasn't fully aware he was undertaking. Even if he did know, there was no way he could prevent it. He would just have to do it, no matter what. Steven knew the man wasn't willing to die yet.  
  
He turned to Danielle. "Lock the boy in the cage, put the handcuffs on him. Ensure the man is unconscious."  
  
She inclined her head approvingly, and moved over to them, producing a small key from her pocket, and unlocking the handcuffs from the man's wrists. She then fastened them around one of the boy's wrists. She dragged him in the cage, and locked the other cuff to a bar.  
  
Steven then watched as she used her power on the man. He cried out momentarily, before quickly blacking out.  
  
"Bring him to the launch bay."  
  
  
  
O'Neill yawned, tired after nine hours on duty. He had turned down one request that he sleep, take a break, eager to find their missing crewmates. He was determined to turn up something.  
  
Henderson and Captain Bridger had taken a launch out to survey the area beyond the W.S.K.R.S. range. They had gone out of range of his own sonar too, so he was unable to determine their present position.  
  
Commander Ford had requested to go on the launch, but Bridger had declined, choosing to go himself, show Henderson the ropes perhaps. Plus, the seaQuest had to have someone in charge whilst the Captain was gone. Commander Ford was that person.  
  
He just hoped that they would find something whilst they were out there.  
  
"Mr. O'Neill, are all W.S.K.R.S. at farthest possible range?" Ford asked, as bored as possible.  
  
"Yes sir. 'Loner' is out at thirty kilometres, 'Mother' and 'Junior' are at seventeen. All operating at optimum capacity... bringing back nothing. There's nothing out there, Commander."  
  
"Just keep looking."  
  
  
  
Dagwood considered Tony's slang words for a moment, allowing a smile to cross his face for a few seconds before it once again died away into his sombre expression. He moved the mop across the floor in the launch bay, ensuring every grate was clean. He liked to make sure everything was as clean as possible on board, as it was his job to clean the ship. He didn't want to let the Captain down. He didn't want to let anybody down.  
  
The launch bay was almost completely empty, besides him and a couple of other crew members. They worked away at one of the launches which had broken down a couple of days earlier.  
  
Dagwood kept to himself though, choosing to place his full concentration on the task of mopping the floor.  
  
  
  
He opened his eyes slowly, lying on his stomach on an iron grating, similar to those in the launches from seaQuest. He shifted his left arm, regretting it almost instantly. He tried moving the right instead, having a little more success in doing so. He propped himself up on his right elbow, taking a look around himself. The dim light reflected off the consoles, showing him that he was, without a doubt, in a launch of some kind.  
  
He rose to his knees, wavering a little. A little off to his right was the main console. On the screen read 'Auto Pilot Engaged', and instructions on how to disengage the system. He looked up to see the sea- view. He was in the water! He was no longer on the island.  
  
Then he had a sudden thought.  
  
"Lucas?"  
  
No answer. No sound at all.  
  
"Lucas?!" he tried again.  
  
He ran his hand through his black hair to clear it from his eyes, and moved slowly over to the console, pulling himself into the chair with all his strength. He rested his head against the back of the seat, taking in a deep breath, and glanced at his shoulder. He peeled back the seaQuest uniform shirt to see the blood on his T-shirt underneath. He placed the shirt back over the wound, and considered the console before him.  
  
He had to disengage the auto-pilot. He read quickly through the instructions displayed, and then followed them carefully. This launch wasn't all that different from one of seaQuest's. Within no time, he had full control of the small vessel, and he was pulling up a map of the area. It was a little difficult to use his left hand, so after a while, he decided against it. Still, he worked quickly.  
  
"Twelve miles," he said quietly to himself after locating seaQuest on the sonar. She was unmistakable.  
  
But then he thought of Lucas. He worked away quickly once more, attempting to locate the island.  
  
"Eight miles."  
  
He slumped back in the chair, faced with one of the toughest decisions he was probably ever going to make. Should he go back for Lucas... or continue towards seaQuest, and badly needed medical help. The pain in his shoulder was increasing, and his ribs were giving him a lot of hassle.  
  
He was just about to turn the launch around to do something stupid, when he remembered Lucas.  
  
He cast a glance across to his shoulder again.  
  
"God dammit," he mumbled, recalling the console in the lab on the island. He had seemingly been a sort of 'tracker'. They had obviously done something to him, implanted something in his shoulder to track him.  
  
"SeaQuest," he mumbled, and slammed his fist on the console, luckily missing all controls. If he were to go to seaQuest with the device still in place, he would lead the telepaths right to the boat. And the crew.  
  
But if he were to go back to the island, he would probably be killed. He could do a lot more at seaQuest, he could help find Lucas from there.  
  
But the tracker.  
  
Then he made what had to be one of the worst decisions he had ever made. He could go back to seaQuest... as long as he didn't have the device in his shoulder.  
  
He removed his shirt, carefully, and tossed it onto the floor. Then he pulled the shoulder of his T-shirt down so it uncovered the wound. He tore off the bandage, throwing it down with his shirt.  
  
Bracing himself for what he knew would be unbearable pain, he reached up with his right hand.  
  
Forcing the stitches open painfully, he pressed his fore-finger and middle-finger into the wound, crying out.  
  
Fighting back the urge to vomit, he felt around for what he needed so desperately to remove.  
  
Fresh blood ran from his shoulder, but he continued nevertheless.  
  
What seemed like hours of pain passed in what was only a matter of seconds. The pain was becoming unbearable. It was blinding. He cried out again, louder, longer, his voice filled with his pain.  
  
Then he felt it. He opened his eyes, finding they were filled with what had to be tears. His suspicions were confirmed when he felt the surface of it, rough like sawn-off metal. He had found it.  
  
With all his might, he wrapped his fingers around the device, and pulled for all he was worth.  
  
With a loud cry, he brought his fingers out of the wound, covered in his own blood, and stared hard at the device he had just caused himself further damage for. It was so small, about the size of a coin. It was now destroyed, having been severed. The small light was out, and two small thin loose wires hung from its edge.  
  
Then he did vomit. He couldn't fight it, so he just let it out. When he ensured he had finished, he brought his head back up to the console.  
  
Placing the damaged device on the top of the console, he typed in the correct commands for a journey to seaQuest. Locating one of the W.S.K.R.S. on his sonar, he sent it a command to open the launch bay door for his vessel when he got in close enough. He programmed the launch to dock with the huge submarine... then collapsed out of his chair.  
  
He knew he had to remain conscious though. He forced himself to stay awake.  
  
The computerized voice of the launch told him that he was now seven miles from seaQuest. He would be there soon.  
  
  
  
Darwin swam freely about the edge of his giant home, hunting fish, satisfying his hunger. He could feel a small disturbance in the current of the water, but displaced the insecurity for one of the small devices known as W.S.K.R.S. floating around out there.  
  
Everyone on board was busy, and he had no one to play with. He wished Lucas was back, so he could have some fun and stop worrying. He didn't like to worry.  
  
He swam swiftly after a large fish, still hungry, and day-dreamed about playing.  
  
  
  
The voice told him he was two miles away, and closing fast. It would only be a matter of minutes now.  
  
He was having a lot of trouble just keeping his own eyes open, but he told himself to stay awake.  
  
One mile.  
  
He struggled to stand up, pulling on the console to aid him in rising. He could see seaQuest's massive form through the water, and he forced a small smile. He saw Darwin swimming alongside her bow, hunting for his food, and the lights of 'Junior' as he hovered near the ship. He had no doubt that O'Neill was giving them commands now, and that they had spotted him on sonar, but as of yet, they hadn't attempted to get in touch with him, or stop him in any way.  
  
Then he saw the launch bay doors open. His small vessel travelled smoothly towards the opening.  
  
Ortiz found his vision deteriorating rapidly, but he closed his eyes, opening them again, forcing them to focus. They did, but only a little. He could still see what was in front of him at least.  
  
He rested himself against the chair before him, and braced himself as the launch docked.  
  
Walking with great difficulty, he moved over to the hatch of the launch, waiting for docking to finish.  
  
When it did, he slammed his hand against the button to open the hatch. It opened smoothly, and he saw the launch bay.  
  
He stumbled out, resting his weight against the nearest wall.  
  
He saw a figure off in the distance, and recognised them almost instantly. They were unmistakable.  
  
His voice weak, filled with pain, he managed one word; "Dagwood."  
  
As the large Dagger turned to him, he collapsed into a heap on the floor, slipping into unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
A loud alarm blaring brought O'Neill out of his day-dream. He looked around, to find everyone was in as much a state of confusion as he was. He sighed a sigh of relief. At least they weren't under attack, he knew that much. Dr. Smith walked up next to him. He didn't even know she was there.  
  
"Mr. O'Neill, find out what the problem is," Ford ordered as he rose from his command chair.  
  
"Yes sir," O'Neill said. He worked away quickly, and he soon brought up an image on the main viewer, It showed an ensign looking at them, his face full of concern. In the background, they could see the launch bay, and a small crowd of people.  
  
"What's wrong, Dogherty?" O'Neill asked, his brow furrowing.  
  
Dogherty fumbled, searching for words of explanation; "You need to get down here, now."  
  
"What's wrong?" Commander Ford asked, his voice more insistent than O'Neill's.  
  
In the background they heard Dagwood's voice, "Move away! You'll hurt him!"  
  
Clearly afraid of the Dagger, the small crowd moved back to reveal what, or who, Dagwood had been talking about.  
  
"Oh my God!" Ford exclaimed, whilst most of the other bridge crew gasped and muttered between themselves. Ortiz lay on the floor of the launch bay, seemingly out cold. Dagwood touched him gently.  
  
"I'm going down there now. You can come if you want, but he looks in need of serious medical attention," Dr. Smith announced as she strode purposefully from the bridge, Ford in tow.  
  
"O'Neill, you have the bridge," Ford told him on exit.  
  
O'Neill was awash in a sea of confusion.  
  
  
  
Dr. Smith ran faster than she thought possible into the room, pushing her way past the people around her.  
  
"Get out of the way!" she shouted to two ignorant ensigns who glared at her confused.  
  
She heard them say she was rude in their minds, but chose to ignore them.  
  
She pushed past Dogherty and another officer to come up to Dagwood and Ortiz. He was still unconscious, and it was then, and only then, that she noticed just how shallow his breathing was.  
  
She knelt down to attend to him, kindly telling Dagwood to step aside. He did as he was asked, recognising Dr. Smith's ability to help Ortiz.  
  
"Jesus," she said as she saw his shoulder. "What the hell happened to you, Miguel?" It looked like it had been ripped open, and it was bleeding badly.  
  
Then she noticed his hand. She realised immediately what must have happened, but she was uncertain as to why. His hand was covered in blood, telling her that he had forced his own fingers into the wound for some unknown reason. It would have to wait. He was in desperate need of her help.  
  
Knowing that he was too heavy for her to carry, she turned to Dagwood. "Can you carry him for me please? We need to get him to the infirmary."  
  
"Okay," Dagwood mumbled.  
  
"Be careful," she said.  
  
She watched Dagwood pick Ortiz gently off the floor, and then moved quickly with him out of the launch bay and to the infirmary.  
  
  
  
Bridger walked into the infirmary quietly, watching Wendy at the medical bed for a moment.  
  
"How is he?" he asked after a while, moving over to her. She turned to him, sighing. "He'll live. Luckily, he got to us just in time. If he had waited any longer, he might not have made it."  
  
Bridger looked down at the unconscious Ortiz, his mind asking the questions he was so desperate to know the answers to. What had happened? How had Ortiz escaped? Where was Lucas?  
  
Ortiz looked in a great deal of pain, even though he wasn't awake. An oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, and a heart monitor sounded irregularly at his side. Wendy had removed his shirt, and Bridger glanced at the bandage covering the wound. It was clean, new.  
  
"What's his condition?"  
  
"Well, he's got two cracked ribs, one broken, and he had a little internal bleeding, but I was able to stop it, luckily. It wasn't fatal. As for his shoulder, I should imagine it will be quite a while before he can use as effectively as he used to. It was difficult to stop the bleeding. I can't figure out why he did it," Wendy informed him, but the last comment had him a little thrown.  
  
"Did what?"  
  
Wendy glanced at him. "When we found him, his hand was covered in blood. He had forced his own fingers in there. I don't know why. I can't read him... at all."  
  
Bridger hesitated before asking his next question. "Is he in a coma?"  
  
"No, far from it actually. That's what surprises me. It will be a few hours before he wakes up though." She smiled. "He's going to be fine, Captain."  
  
But still, even though he was extremely glad that Ortiz was going to be fine, he couldn't help but think about Lucas.  
  
  
  
Wendy sat alone in the infirmary. But she wasn't completely alone, Ortiz was there, still unconscious, but he was there nonetheless. But she might as well have been alone... she couldn't read Miguel's mind, at all. It was like he was blocking her out, but she knew that wasn't possible. Only telepaths could do that.  
  
She cast a glance over to him, listening to the quiet sound of the heart monitor, which sounded improvement as far as she was concerned. His pulse was returning to normal, which was good.  
  
She stood from her small desk and moved over to his bedside. She tried again to read him.  
  
This time, she got through. It took effort, but she got through in the end. There was a confusing multitude of emotions; fear, concern, pain, and his own powerful confusion. It was so strong, it shocked her for a moment. In his bed, Miguel moved slightly. She searched his mind further, seeking answers which she hoped would lead them to Lucas. But Miguel was as much in the dark as she was.  
  
Then he woke, suddenly, gasping. She removed the oxygen mask from his face, allowing him to breathe normally for himself. He looked at her, and she got a clear reading from him. His strongest emotion was the concern, the concern for Lucas. He wanted to help him, and yet he knew he couldn't.  
  
"How are you feeling?" she asked, checking the monitor by his side.  
  
"Terrible. And yourself?" he replied.  
  
She smiled. "Fine thanks, but I'm more worried about you."  
  
He attempted to sit up, but she wouldn't allow him to.  
  
"I'll be fine," he insisted, but she was having none of it.  
  
"No. Rest. You need it," Wendy told him, and he obeyed. "What happened to you?"  
  
His brow furrowed slightly. She clarified, "Your shoulder. Why did you do it?" She couldn't understand why he would want to do such a thing.  
  
He glanced at his shoulder, then turned back to her. "A tracker," was all he said. "I have to see Captain Bridger."  
  
"No, you have to stay in bed, you're weak."  
  
"No, please. It's important. It's about Lucas." The look on his handsome face was serious. He wasn't messing around. He needed to see Nathan as much as he said he did.  
  
It would probably cause him further damage, but from what she could read from him, this was beyond the point of importance. "Alright," she said. "Hang on a minute."  
  
She quickly removed all of the heart monitoring devices, and the IV, passing him a white seaQuest T-shirt. He put it on with a little difficulty.  
  
"You have to be especially careful, Miguel. You've got two cracked ribs, and a broken one. Your shoulder is more damaged though. Just be careful," she instructed him. He nodded in understanding.  
  
He led them out of the infirmary, and into the corridor.  
  
The Captain was not going to be pleased with her.  
  
  
  
Ortiz took as much care as he could as he walked down the corridors, avoiding all contact with oncoming crew, ensuring he wouldn't collide with them, hurting himself.  
  
Several crewmembers eyed him curiously, but he simply ignored them. He passed them by without a second thought. He had to get to the bridge.  
  
Within no time, he could see the bridge's main doorway off in the distance. He found himself walking faster to get there.  
  
When he walked onto the metal grating of the deck, most eyes turned to him, and the room fell silent, leaving the sound of the computers to fill the room.  
  
O'Neill pulled his headset down around his neck, regarding him with concern. Henderson looked down at Ford, who returned her look of confusion. Brody seemed pleased to see that he was okay, and he smiled at him. Ortiz returned the smile, but only briefly. Piccolo was present, operating the sensor station with the help of another officer.  
  
Captain Bridger turned to him, looking a little displeased to see that he was out of the infirmary.  
  
Ortiz moved over to him, slowly, allowing his aching ribs to recover a little. He stopped before the Captain, awaiting his superior's opinion to come out.  
  
"What are you doing, Chief? You should be in the infirmary."  
  
Around them, the crew continued with their work, listening intently to their conversation.  
  
Ortiz hesitated. "I need to speak to you, Captain."  
  
"Well, then we can discuss it later, in the ward room," Bridger said, looking Ortiz up and down, checking him.  
  
"No. It can't wait."  
  
"Yes, it can."  
  
"It's about Lucas."  
  
Now he had his attention. Bridger was looking at him with a certain interest, and his face was full of concern. He had acted like a father to Lucas for a long time, and now he was eager to learn what Ortiz had to say about Lucas.  
  
"What?" Bridger said, standing from his command chair. He faced Ortiz, waiting to hear what he needed to say.  
  
"We have to go back for him, otherwise they're gonna do to him what they did to me. And believe me, Captain, you don't want that to happen," Ortiz told him, his eyes fixed on the Captain's.  
  
"What did they do to you?" Bridger asked, inclining his head a little.  
  
"They implanted a tracking device into my shoulder, and then sent me out here so I could lead them to you. Plus, the man has one hell of a temper. He's the one who broke my rib." Ortiz knew this next comment would cause some kind of reaction. "You wanna leave Lucas there to go through that?"  
  
"No, I most certainly do not. But there are no facilities on that island."  
  
"I need to get the chip from the launch, sir. It might be able to help us find him." Ortiz leant on O'Neill's console for a moment, gathering himself. "They are on that island, Captain, I know it."  
  
"Alright." The Captain was beyond the point of convinced. He was ready to do whatever was necessary to retrieve Lucas. Ortiz knew he would. He cared more for Lucas than for any other member of the crew, and Ortiz respected that. That was why he knew Captain Bridger would agree to what Ortiz would propose they do. The whole idea seemed 'out there', but Miguel knew it would work, to some degree at least.  
  
Without another word said, they made their way out of the bridge, towards the launch bay.  
  
  
  
Miguel opened the hatch to the launch, and moved inside. He recalled where he had placed the device, then retrieved it from atop the main console.  
  
He walked out of the vessel, and presented it to Bridger, who took it from him, and inspected it.  
  
Suddenly, Ortiz felt that familiar pain in his head, except not as severe.  
  
"Aah, damn." He clutched his head, resting himself against the wall next to him.  
  
Bridger and Wendy turned to him. "What's wrong?" the Captain asked, moving to his side.  
  
Ortiz felt a presence in his mind, helping him to understand what he had to do. It was the woman, Danielle. The weak feeling faded as suddenly as it had appeared.  
  
"You're going back to the infirmary," Bridger said, but Ortiz shook his head.  
  
"No, I'm okay."  
  
Wendy spoke, "There was a woman. In your mind. I felt her presence. She seemed so frightened."  
  
But Ortiz had no time to worry about that, as he turned to the Captain. "I know what we have to do. She helped me."  
  
"One of the people from the island?" Bridger seemed doubtful, which Miguel could understand. He wasn't quite sure why she had told him what she had, but for some reason, he knew she had told him the truth.  
  
"We have to trust her. It's the only way, sir," Ortiz insisted, standing to his full height again.  
  
With a nod, they proceeded back to the bridge.  
  
  
  
Ortiz was now so far beyond the point of confusion, what he was feeling was indescribable. He knew what he had to do, but he had no idea why. Some of the details had been left out, but he would deal with them when he came to them.  
  
He had donned a seaQuest uniform shirt, and had rolled the sleeves up, as was his usual habit.  
  
As they entered the bridge, Bridger passed him the chip, and he made his way up to his station.  
  
"I'm sure you're doin' a fine job, Piccolo, but I need my station," he said to his friend.  
  
Piccolo looked to Bridger, who nodded his assurance. Piccolo removed the headset, handing it to Ortiz, and stood from the seat. Ortiz sat, and watched as Piccolo made his way down to stand below his station, like he usually did when he had nothing to do. He placed the headset on, checking the microphone and earphone were in the correct places. Then he inspected the chip, searching for some kind of sign which would tell him what kind of signal to look for on sensors.  
  
Then he found a certain component, one which he knew carried a unique electrical current. It was a lot higher than normal electrical currents, and should be easy to locate.  
  
Silently, he set to work, typing away quickly to try and locate the signal. It took a few minutes to even get a faint trace of it, but it was clear.  
  
"I've got a fix on the source of the carrier signal. It's about fifteen kilometres due west from here," he informed the Captain, who nodded to Henderson. She set to work on getting seaQuest to that location.  
  
Ortiz ran a hand through his hair, clearing it from his vision.  
  
"We should be there in a couple of minutes, sir," Henderson informed Bridger with a faint smile.  
  
Bridger moved up to the point below Ortiz's station where Piccolo was standing. "So, can you tell me exactly how you plan to find Lucas?"  
  
"Not exactly, but I have an idea. If we can locate the exact point where the carrier wave is coming from, then we'll know we've found the facility, which I'm guessing is underground somewhere. Then we should be able to locate Lucas inside by using a W.S.K.R. to uplink with the facility's carrier aerial, which will carry all of the facility's data, and blueprints." Then he added, "Hopefully."  
  
Bridger smiled, and laughed a little laugh. "Well, that sounds just about crazy enough to work," he said, sounding impressed with his officer's work.  
  
Ortiz returned the smile. "Yes sir. I'm hoping it will work. If not, then I don't know how we can even hope to find Lucas."  
  
The smile faded from Bridger's face. "Carry on. Inform me of everything. This sounds like it should be interesting."  
  
Miguel nodded, and watched Captain Bridger move back over to his command chair, taking a seat in it.  
  
"We're at the location," Henderson informed the crew, looking at Miguel in particular.  
  
Miguel nodded, and set to work again. "I'm sending 'Mother' out to search for the exact point where the signal is coming from." He watched her signal on the monitor before him, and listened as it beeped when she located a signal of her own. "Good girl," he muttered under his breath. "I've located the signal's broadcast point, and I'm sending 'Mother' in to uplink with the antenna." He typed in the appropriate commands, and sent the W.S.K.R. out, named for her size, and for the fact that she was leader of the small satellites.  
  
Within a few minutes, Ortiz announced, "Receiving data now, awaiting blueprints." Then he smiled. "I've got them, Captain."  
  
Miguel's brow furrowed as he located another faint signal. "I'm receiving another faint signal sir, taking 'Junior' in for a closer look."  
  
Miguel was aware half the bridge crew were watching him, but he didn't care. He had a job to do, and he was doing it to the best of his ability.  
  
"It's the main computer's signal sir. It's sending a faint signal out. I don't know why, but it's there. There's a main computer panel right below us...," he trailed off, glancing up at the Captain.  
  
"What is it, Chief?" Bridger asked, curious as usual.  
  
"The facility," was all he said in reply.  
  
"What about the facility?" Ford inquired, looking up to him from his own console next to O'Neill.  
  
"It's...," he re-checked his results; "It's right below us, sir." He looked around at his crewmates. "They're down there. About three miles from the island's shore."  
  
O'Neill looked down at his own screen. "He's right. It's there."  
  
"Can you get a fix on Lucas at all? Do you know if he's down there?" Bridger asked, his mind following one track alone.  
  
Ortiz worked quickly, "It's hard to tell. These blueprints are a little hard to understand... wait a minute. I'm picking up something. There's someone down there."  
  
"Is it Lucas?" asked Bridger.  
  
"I'm not sure...," he said, "but whoever they are, they just disappeared completely from the room. Either they can transport to another position, or they just died." He pulled his headset down around his neck, and looked down at Bridger, who made his way up to Ortiz's station.  
  
"Dammit," Bridger said, regarding the blueprints displayed on Ortiz's screen. "Someone's dead down there." He glanced at Ortiz, tapping the screen. "Can you determine who that was?"  
  
"It was a woman," Dr. Smith cut in, calling up to them. "I felt her. She had a lot of guilt... about you, Miguel. She must have felt terrible for what she did to you."  
  
"How did she die, do you know?" Ortiz asked, rubbing his eyes, feeling the strain of his concentration catching up with him.  
  
"I can't tell. But she felt hatred when she died," Wendy told him.  
  
That was all Miguel needed to hear to know exactly what had happened.  
  
As he replaced his headset, he set back to work. "He killed her. Son- of-a-bitch," he growled angrily.  
  
"You don't know that," Bridger said, walking back down to his chair.  
  
Ortiz didn't reply, just felt the anger build up inside of him.  
  
After a while, he said, "I'm rotating 'Mother' ninety degrees to face the ground. Shining her main beacon light down at the sea bed."  
  
He stood, walking down to the pool on the bridge, where Darwin had appeared a few moments earlier. He clarified to the Captain what he was doing; "I think I just found their main launch bay doors."  
  
Darwin turned to him as he came up to the side of the tank.  
  
"Ortiz better?" Darwin chattered.  
  
"Kind of. Can you do me a favour, Darwin?" he said to the dolphin, glad deep inside to see him.  
  
"Darwin help Ortiz." Darwin's smooth head bobbed in and out of the water.  
  
"I need you to swim out to the W.S.K.R. which is shining at the ground. Then I need for you to disturb the soil beneath the light. Understand?" Ortiz explained, hopefully in terms the dolphin would understand.  
  
"Darwin understand. Darwin move mud."  
  
"Yeah, Darwin move mud. Can ya' do that for me?" he asked, stroking the dolphin's head.  
  
"Darwin help. Darwin understand." The dolphin nodded his head, and then swam away down the tube, which would lead him off the ship and into the sea.  
  
Ortiz made his way back up to his station, wiping his wet hand on his trousers.  
  
"I hope you know what you're doing," Henderson said as he sat down at his station.  
  
He merely smiled, and said, "I hope so too." He glanced quickly at her, then turned to face the sea-view which showed Darwin swimming out to 'Mother'.  
  
  
  
Darwin loved helping his friends. It made him feel good about himself. He swam swiftly through the water to the machine facing the sea bed, and stopped before it. He looked back to the boat quickly, feeling everyone's eyes on him. So, he got back to his task.  
  
Directly below where the light was shining, he dug his nose into the soil, and pushed it about. It wasn't working fast enough, so he swam over the spot a little bit, and buried his tail in the mud, moving more at one time. Soon, he found he had uncovered something metal, and he had uncovered quite a large portion of it, so he turned and began swimming back to the boat, ready to tell Ortiz what he had found for him.  
  
  
  
"Darwin find metal," said Darwin as he popped his head out of the water in his little pool, squirting a little onto the deck in the process.  
  
Miguel stood from his station, and moved down to the dolphin, joining Bridger at the pool's side.  
  
"You found metal?" Bridger asked his pet, stroking him affectionately.  
  
"Darwin find metal in mud. Metal under light. Metal strong," Darwin told them.  
  
"The launch bay doors," Miguel said, as he patted his thanks to Darwin, and moved back up to his station. He quickly got back to typing in his commands for the W.S.K.R.S., and pretty much kept to himself. Everyone was watching him, eager to know what he was doing.  
  
"I'm telling 'Mother' to run a scan on the doors. There should be heat seeping from them if they've been used recently," he explained, typing in the last of the command for the machine he had been trained to use.  
  
"Like a car engine?" Piccolo offered, glancing up at him.  
  
"Yeah. When a car's engine is switched off, heat is released to allow the engine to cool. Now, these doors are pretty similar. If something has been out of them in the last... oh, say, three hours, they might still be warm." It made sense to him, and he hoped it made as much sense to the Captain at least.  
  
"I see what you're getting at, Ortiz. Are you coming up with anything?" Bridger said from his chair.  
  
Casting a glance back down at his console, Ortiz searched for the answer the Captain wanted to know.  
  
"Well sir," he stated, "there's heat, but it's increasing." He looked to the sea-view. "Captain, I think-."  
  
Before he could even finish his sentence, the launch bay doors flew open, and a small launch of some kind shot out of them. The W.S.K.R. was knocked back hard, and looking down at his screen, Miguel could tell that it was damaged.  
  
"Mr. O'Neill, can you get a link with that launch?" Bridger asked the communications officer.  
  
O'Neill worked quickly. "No sir. They're rejecting my requests." He looked up to the Captain, and shrugged.  
  
"Keep trying. If you get through, let me know," Bridger instructed. O'Neill nodded, and set to work on contacting the launch.  
  
"Henderson, follow them. Don't lose them," Bridger said, seating himself in his command chair. He seemed incredibly tense, and no one would dare question him in that condition.  
  
"Yes sir," Henderson acknowledged in a small voice, glancing down at her console.  
  
Ortiz gazed at the Captain, awaiting his orders. When he didn't receive any, he sent the W.S.K.R.S. out in front of the seaQuest to keep track of the launch, ensuring they didn't lose them. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lonnie... it was only because he so badly wanted to catch them, and bring Lucas back. Plus, Lonnie wasn't as used to this ship as he was. He knew exactly what he was doing, even when his vision wasn't at it's best. He was feeling the strain of working so hard now, but he was determined.  
  
He could see Wendy walking up to him in the corner of his eye.  
  
"How are you doing?" she asked upon her arrival at his side.  
  
"Even if I wanted to lie, you would be able to tell anyway. I'm managing," he told her, smiling at her for emphasis, hoping to fool her, even though he knew that was pointless.  
  
She cocked her head at him. "You lied, Miguel."  
  
He sighed, not taking his eyes off his console, keeping track of the results that were displayed there. "See, I told you."  
  
"If you carry on like this, you're going to hurt yourself even more. You've got to rest."  
  
He looked up at her. "Sorry, I can't. You know I can't. I have to do this... for Lucas." He hoped that had convinced her.  
  
She nodded, smiling. "Okay. Just, be careful."  
  
He watched her move away, and smiled briefly. He appreciated her concern, but he had a job to do.  
  
  
  
He didn't even know she was staring at him. She was worried about him. He was working too hard, she was certain. He had a gunshot wound to the shoulder, and a couple of damaged ribs, and he was going on like this. If he carried on like this, she knew it would be trouble. For him at least.  
  
She glanced back at her navigations console, and then back up at Miguel. He rubbed his eyes, and sighed, wincing a little as he shifted awkwardly in his chair. Then he got back to work on the W.S.K.R.S., checking all three individually. Sometimes, she thought it was like he treated them as though each one had a different personality. She knew it wasn't possible, as they were machines, but she just left him alone most of the time.  
  
She was new to the ship, and she didn't feel as though she really knew anyone aboard yet. They were all still strangers to her, and yet, she felt close to them, like family. They cared about her, and she about them. She had only just got used to their names. It had taken her a while to get Tony and Miguel's last names right, and she was still working on Lucas'. Some of the people on this ship had strange names... but that was her opinion, and she knew to keep it to herself. She didn't know whether she would offend them or not. She certainly didn't want that. Not since she had only been here three months... that wouldn't have been a good start at all; offend the crew and get thrown off the boat. She didn't know what she'd do if that happened. She would be lost.  
  
"You okay Lonnie?" asked a male voice from her side.  
  
She glanced to her right to see Miguel looking directly at her with a certain degree of curiousity. His brow was furrowed, and he seemed confused.  
  
She fumbled for what to say. "Yeah, thanks." She hesitated. "What about you? Are you okay?"  
  
Glancing back at his console, as if attempting to avoid the subject, he replied, "I'm fine."  
  
"You were shot in the shoulder."  
  
"Yeah, I know that, Henderson."  
  
He had called her Henderson, which probably meant he was becoming annoyed... but she wasn't prepared to let it drop. "I heard what you did... to get the implant out. You can't be 'okay' after doing that. I know I wouldn't be."  
  
He seemed taken aback. "Yeah, well, I'm not you, Henderson." His brown eyes had gone narrow. "I did what I did because I had no other choice. You should understand that."  
  
She was now a little offended herself. "What is that supposed to mean?"  
  
"I thought it was pretty straight-forward, Ensign."  
  
Now he was calling her Ensign!  
  
"Oh really? So, I can only understand the straight-forward things in life? Is that it?" she asked, pushing her chair back from her console, and turning to him.  
  
"That's not what I meant, and you know it," he retorted in a low voice, unwilling to call unnecessary attention to himself.  
  
"Fine, whatever."  
  
He turned to her, pushing back from his own console as well, pulling his headset down around his neck. "What is your problem?"  
  
"Well... maybe you're my problem," she said, her voice falling into a low tone. She wasn't going to take this from anyone, even if they were Miguel Ortiz... general 'nice guy' of seaQuest. She didn't care.  
  
He stood. "What?! How can I be your problem? You don't even know me!" He was shaking now, and she could see he was full of anger.  
  
"Ensign? Chief?" Bridger asked, standing too.  
  
They both ignored him, lost in their own little verbal battle.  
  
  
  
Wendy turned to Nathan. "Something's wrong," she stated, matter-of- factly.  
  
"I can see that, Doctor. Two of my officers are arguing," he replied, looking at her.  
  
"No, I mean with Ortiz. There's something strange about what I'm reading from him. It's not how it should be."  
  
"Well, Ortiz, maybe I've just had enough of you acting superior all of a sudden. All I did was ask you how you felt, and you took my head off," Henderson said up above. She was no longer seated, having stood to attempt to intimidate Ortiz. So far, it wasn't working.  
  
"Me? Superior?" He laughed. "Yeah, right! I should be the one complaining about you. You're basically chasing every male member of this crew around, and maybe I'm sick of it. This isn't the love ride at the fun fair, it's a UEO vessel. This is the serious work, Ensign. There's no room for mess ups around here. So, maybe you're the problem around here," Ortiz almost shouted, and Wendy could see him shaking now.  
  
"Sit down, both of you!" Bridger ordered. Henderson glanced down at him, but Ortiz did not even seem to notice the Captain's presence.  
  
"Captain, there is definitely something wrong with him. His whole mind is different," Wendy told Nathan.  
  
"God, listen to yourself. You're not even making any sense any more." Henderson appeared to be calming down, obviously having sensed something amiss with the whole situation.  
  
"No!" Ortiz shouted, clenching his fists, "I... I don't need... I-."  
  
Before he could even finish the sentence, Ortiz collapsed to the floor, crying out briefly when he hit the grating. Several crew members stared, whilst Henderson knelt down by his side, and checked his pulse. "He's alive, Captain, but his pulse is erratic. Something's wrong," she called.  
  
Bridger and Wendy ran up to the station, kneeling down by Ortiz also. Wendy knew now what had been so wrong. "There was someone invading his mind, Captain, but neither was in complete control, so a seemingly whole new personality emerged. I could feel Ortiz trying to break through, but when he finally did, there was a sudden burst of energy inside of him. He couldn't handle it." She was silent for a moment. "He's alone now. He should be fine."  
  
"Do you know who it was?" Bridger asked, looking down to Ortiz as he stirred slightly.  
  
Wendy looked him in the eye. "No, all I could sense was a lot of anger. Whoever it was... they're very disturbed," she told him, shaking her head.  
  
Miguel groaned as he opened his eyes, touching his head, "What the hell happened? It felt like someone was trying to possess me or something."  
  
Wendy helped him up. "Something like that. A powerful psychic was inside your mind, and they were trying to take you over. I could feel you trying to break through."  
  
Miguel glanced around himself as he stood. Everyone was looking directly at him, and he didn't know why. "What did I do?" he asked quietly, rubbing his head again, and gently touching his shoulder.  
  
Bridger decided to inform him this time. "Well, after you and Ensign Henderson had a rather heated argument, you collapsed."  
  
Miguel's eyes went wide for a moment, and he turned to face Lonnie. "I didn't say anything... harsh, did I?" he asked, feeling a little stupid.  
  
She smiled, a little forced. "No."  
  
He could tell she was lying, it was so plainly obvious. But he simply apologised and thought nothing more of it, knowing that it wasn't him that had said those things anyway. It had been that man, Steven. If nothing else, he was determined to get revenge on him. For what he had done to him, and for killing Danielle, after she had helped him. Sure, she had hurt him too, but she had made amends, and had died for it. Steven had not. Miguel was certain that Steven had no human heart inside him at all.  
  
After receiving permission from Bridger, he seated himself at his station, and continued with his work.  
  
Wendy eyed him curiously for a few minutes after she had travelled back down to stand behind Bridger's command chair. She had felt all that hate inside Miguel just double in an instant. If his anger wasn't released in a healthy way, someone could get hurt. And it could be Miguel.  
  
  
  
Lucas pulled as hard as he could on the handcuffs locked around the pole, hurting his wrists in the process. Steven had dragged him to the launch, after killing Danielle. He had said she had betrayed him, helped the enemy. Lucas had no idea what he had meant, but they had just up and left.  
  
As they had left the launch bay, Lucas had caught sight of seaQuest, and that had raised his hopes a little. He just wished he knew what had happened to Ortiz. He was worried about him. When they had knocked the W.S.K.R. flying, he had suddenly thought about it. He hoped that his friend was okay.  
  
"Dammit," Steven said from the controls, pounding his fist on the side of the console. "How did they find me?"  
  
Lucas took the chance to annoy his captor, showing him his own ignorance. "It's the flagship of the UEO fleet, how do you think?"  
  
All he received from the man was an icy glare.  
  
"Everyone onboard is the best at what they do. You won't lose them," Lucas continued.  
  
"Shut up!" Steven shouted, turning the launch around. It was of a fairly new design, one which Lucas had never seen before. "If I can't lose them, then I'll destroy them."  
  
Lucas actually felt a little afraid now. He knew the seaQuest would be unable to return fire, for fear of hurting him, and that way, they would probably take a lot of damage theirselves.  
  
He watched as Steven entered instructions into his computer console to fire the first wave of torpedoes.  
  
  
  
"Captain," Brody called from his station, "the launch is firing torpedoes. They're heading right for us."  
  
"Time to impact; twenty seconds," Ortiz reinforced Brody's statement.  
  
Bridger looked between the two officers, finally setting his eyes on Miguel Ortiz. "Load intercepts. Fire on my mark."  
  
"Yes sir," Ortiz acknowledged, working away at his keyboard. "Intercepts loaded." He glanced down at his Captain, ready for the order he knew he would receive any minute now.  
  
"Fire intercepts."  
  
Ortiz typed in the command, and flicked a few switches. "Intercepts away, Captain. Impact in five... four... three... two... one."  
  
A large force rocked the seaQuest, but everyone managed to keep their balance.  
  
"All torpedoes were destroyed on impact," Ortiz reported from his station.  
  
Brody chimed in, "They're firing a second wave."  
  
"Two, three... five torpedoes in the water," Ortiz told the Captain in a loud voice, ensuring Bridger heard every word.  
  
"Load intercepts."  
  
"Intercepts loaded."  
  
Bridger stared into the water on the sea-view. "Fire intercepts."  
  
Repeating the process he had performed the first time, and a thousand times before that, Ortiz called down to him. "Intercepts away. Impact in... six seconds."  
  
Again, a force rocked the boat.  
  
"They're awaiting our move, Captain," Brody reported, his voice carrying clearly through the large bridge.  
  
"Load torpedoes. Knock out her weapons, and engines," Bridger ordered from his chair.  
  
"No, Captain, Lucas is onboard that launch. We miscalculate, and we could blow him out of the water. He wouldn't stand a chance," Ortiz said from his station, his tone insistent, and convincing.  
  
Bridger glanced around at his Sensor Chief, and sighed. "Damn. What are our options?" he asked, having run out of ideas himself.  
  
Ortiz glanced down at his console, then at Brody, then finally settled his gaze on the Captain. "Sir, I have an idea."  
  
  
  
Miguel hoped the Captain was going to agree to this.  
  
"So, what your saying is... we fake a direct hit?" Bridger queried, looking up at him from his place beside the silent Piccolo. Bridger wore a look of quiet disbelief, doubting inwardly that this was going to work.  
  
"That's exactly what I'm saying, sir." Then he took it upon himself to explain his plan. "If I manoeuvre one of the W.S.K.R.S. into the path of an oncoming torpedo, right in front of the seaQuest, then it will look as if he's hit the boat."  
  
Bridger nodded for him to continue.  
  
"As soon as we feel the impact from the explosion, we can cut all the power, leaving just one station online, and enough power for one of the torpedo tubes," Miguel said, as he allowed a slight smile to cross his face.  
  
"Which station do you suggest we leave online?" Ford asked from his own place down below, looking up at the Cuban with interest.  
  
Miguel glanced down at Ford, then looked back to Bridger. "My station."  
  
"And why should we leave enough power for only one torpedo tube, and not the whole lot?" Brody asked from across the other side of the bridge, his brow furrowing.  
  
"Well," Miguel began, "he'll think the seaQuest is powerless, so he'll come in closer to dock. He's powerful enough to knock out at least six grown men with a single thought." Miguel glanced at Wendy before continuing, feeling her travel into his mind, which was racing. "We lull him into a false sense of security. When he gets close enough, we launch a grappling torpedo at his ship. He'll be too close to evade it. Then we hit the power, and bring him aboard. We'll only need one tube."  
  
He looked to the Captain for approval. Bridger smiled broadly. "Good work, Chief. Very good." He laughed, as did Miguel, pleased that the Captain agreed with his plan.  
  
Lonnie leaned over. "Which one of your little toys are ya' gonna sacrifice?" she asked, an innocent smile on her face.  
  
He considered this for a moment, and then he turned to her. "I'm thinking 'Junior'."  
  
"Aw, I kinda liked that little guy," she whined, laughing.  
  
Miguel nodded, keying in a delayed command for the machine he was to destroy. "Yeah, so do I, but a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." He laughed along with her, and the two smiled. He cringed a little when his shoulder started playing up.  
  
"You alright?" Lonnie asked, concerned.  
  
He looked at her. "Yeah, thanks. I'll be fine."  
  
He spoke quietly to his computer console, typing in the remainder of the command for 'Junior'. "Sorry little guy. I promise I'll try and put you back together."  
  
  
  
Steven waited for the seaQuest to make a move. He glanced back at the boy as he heard him struggling against his restraints. That's why, he thought, they're too worried about hurting the boy.  
  
"Fine," he said aloud. "I'll take another turn."  
  
"No!" Lucas cried in the corner, but Steven silenced him with a glare.  
  
He typed in the commands for the third wave of torpedoes.  
  
  
  
Miguel looked down at his console as a small sound attracted his attention. "Torpedoes in the water. Five in total."  
  
"Ready for power down," Bridger announced to the crew. "Mr. Ortiz, when you're ready?"  
  
Miguel nodded, and manoeuvred his faithful machine in the direct line of fire. Sure, he would miss the little guy for a while, but he would get another as soon as they returned to Pearl Harbour. One which he would undoubtedly name 'Junior' as well.  
  
"Grappling torpedo ready in the tube, sir. W.S.K.R. in place." Miguel reported from his station. "Impact in three... two... one."  
  
A huge force rocked the boat, and a few crewmembers lost their balance.  
  
"Shut it all down!" Miguel shouted, and watched as all the lights, consoles and panels shut off completely, except for his station, and the torpedo tube containing their only usable weapon.  
  
  
  
Steven allowed himself a little cry of excitement as he watched the explosion disturb the water. All lights went off aboard the larger vessel, and she seemed powerless. He ran a quick scan, and sure enough, the vessel was down. Dead in the water.  
  
"Flagship of the fleet, my ass!" he snorted, looking back at Lucas, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.  
  
He began directing the launch towards the seaQuest.  
  
  
  
Miguel worked away quickly at his station, keeping a watchful eye on the position of the launch. "It's moving towards us, Captain. Torpedo ready."  
  
Bridger acknowledged, "You know what you're doing. Whenever you think it's right, do it."  
  
"Aye Captain," Miguel accepted. He watched the screen, keeping an eye on the launch on his sensors.  
  
When he was certain the launch was within the perfect distance, he flicked the appropriate switches on his controls, and listened to the sound of the torpedo launching from the tube. "Grappling torpedo away, Captain. Contact in five seconds."  
  
He waited. It seemed to take forever to reach the smaller vessel. He glanced up to look through the sea-view, and watched as the outer casing of the torpedo exploded outward, and the hooks extended around the launch.  
  
"Positive impact. We've got them. Bringing them in, docking bay two." Miguel couldn't help but feel smug. This was undoubtedly the best work he had done in ages. "It's okay to put the power back on now."  
  
The lights shone throughout the bridge, and the rest of the ship. All consoles sprung back to life, and the bridge crew gave a little cheer.  
  
Captain Bridger walked over to Miguel's station. "Well done, Chief. Well done."  
  
"Thank you sir." Miguel smiled back down at the Captain, then he let the happy expression fall from his face. "But we've still got to apprehend him. He'll be in the docking bay in... twenty-three seconds."  
  
Bridger nodded. "Ford, Brody, with me."  
  
Miguel cleared his throat.  
  
"Mr. Ortiz, care to join us?"  
  
"Nothing would please me more right now, sir."  
  
Miguel stood, removing his headset, and made his way down to join the three other officers. Lonnie took hold of his arm.  
  
"Be careful," she said.  
  
He smiled. "I will."  
  
  
  
"Damn!" Steven said, and cursed wildly under his breath. He moved over to Lucas, and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them across the launch in anger. He pulled a gun from his waistband, and pulled Lucas from the ground.  
  
"Come on," he growled, pulling the boy to the hatch. He was going to use the boy as a kind of shield. No one would dare take a shot at him with Lucas in the way.  
  
  
  
Miguel ran, with difficulty, alongside Ford, Bridger and Brody, to the docking bay. They shouted at crewmen to clear out of the way, which they did immediately, obviously still a little confused from the power- down.  
  
It wasn't long before they were in the launch bay, awaiting Steven's arrival... and hopefully Lucas' too.  
  
Six other men, armed with stun guns were on the scene almost as quickly, and Wendy followed behind.  
  
"Doctor, this could be dangerous," Bridger warned.  
  
"I know, but I'm sure I'll be able to contact this man, and talk to him," she reassured.  
  
Miguel shook his head, holding a hand to his ribs. "You probably won't like what you find."  
  
The doors to the launch bay they assumed the man was coming from opened, and they heard footsteps making their way up the ladder. Steven came out first, followed by a very frightened looking Lucas. The man held a gun to Lucas' side, as he clutched the boy tightly.  
  
"Lucas!" Bridger called, drawing his own weapon. Miguel, Brody and Ford followed suit, pulling their own weapons.  
  
Bridger and Miguel stood further forward than the rest, guns pointed directly at Steven. Brody joined by the side of Miguel, and then Ford by the side of Brody. They stood together, guns drawn, pointed directly at Steven.  
  
And unfortunately, at Lucas also. Steven had planned ahead, and was using Lucas as a sort of human shield against them. Lucas looked quite frightened, and Miguel could understand why.  
  
"Let him go," Miguel warned, raising his gun a little for emphasis.  
  
"Ah, Miguel... I see you made it back alive. I was quite impressed to learn of what you did to remove the chip. I never thought you'd have the guts." Steven laughed, only succeeding in angering Miguel further.  
  
"Captain!" Lucas said, struggling against Steven's grip.  
  
"Shut up," Steven warned, pressing the gun into his shoulder further.  
  
"Release him, and no harm will come to you," Bridger told him, allowing his gun to fall a little, as if trying to convince the man.  
  
Steven merely laughed.  
  
Miguel suddenly gasped, as he felt an invasion in his mind once more. Steven was trying to overpower him again, like before on the bridge when he had argued with Lonnie. He wasn't keen to experience that again.  
  
"Wendy," was all he could manage.  
  
Then he felt her inside his mind also, and he heard them battling it out inside his head. Before long, Wendy had forced Steven out, knowing Miguel's mind better than the other telepath.  
  
"Thanks," Miguel gasped, glaring up at Steven with hatred.  
  
"I see you have your own little psychic. Not nearly at my level, but she will learn."  
  
Then he raised his free hand into the air.  
  
Miguel and Brody lifted at least eight feet into the air, and then shot backwards into the wall behind. Both men fell to the floor with a cry, unconscious.  
  
  
  
"I have more power than you can hope to deal with," Steven boasted, as he gestured behind them to the two men he had just sent across the room.  
  
"Surrender yourself," Ford demanded loudly.  
  
Steven pulled Lucas in front of him a little more. "No. I want your vessel."  
  
He was going to have to use all the power he could gather to convince these people.  
  
  
  
Miguel forced his eyes open, glancing over to the unconscious Brody. He heard the sound of several heavy objects falling to the floor, and turned to see.  
  
Every single member of the crew who had come down to the launch bay to apprehend Steven, were hovering seven feet in the air; Bridger, Wendy, Ford... all of them. All of their weapons were on the ground, having dropped from their clutch.  
  
He looked to Steven, keeping relevantly still, and noticed the pain and concentration on the psychic man's face. He was clearly straining himself to perform the task he was attempting. He held Lucas a little way away from him now.  
  
Miguel searched the small area around him with his eyes, and found what he was looking for; his weapon.  
  
He reached out slowly with his left hand, and wrapped his fingers tightly around the hand-grip. He pulled the weapon towards him, then turned his head to Steven, noticing that the man was still concentrating on the task before him. Lucas noticed him rising from the ground, but kept silent  
  
Gasping for breath to recover, he aimed the gun at Steven, honestly not giving a damn whether it was on stun or not... and pulled the trigger.  
  
Steven convulsed immediately, and dropped to the floor, as did the rest of the people in the room. Lucas fell free of his captor's grip, and scrambled away as fast as he could.  
  
Bridger and Wendy turned to Miguel as he dropped the gun to the floor in exhaustion. All of his energy was gone, and he could feel his knees giving way.  
  
Before Bridger could open his mouth to utter a word, Miguel collapsed to the floor in pain, and passed out into total darkness.  
  
  
  
He listened to the sounds around him for a while before opening his eyes to the familiar sight of the medical bay.  
  
"He's going to be fine, Captain. His ribs are healing normally, but he'll have to wear a sling for his shoulder. I suggest you relieve him of his duties for at least a week," he heard Wendy say.  
  
"I was going to suggest that myself. He's worked hard enough for one week," Bridger agreed, unaware of the fact that Miguel was actually able to hear him from his bed.  
  
"I'm proud of him," Bridger finished, before leaving the room. The sound of his footsteps leaving the infirmary told Miguel that he had gone.  
  
"I know you are," Wendy said quietly from across the room.  
  
Miguel decided he would rest here for a while before even bothering to wake up again. He was eager to catch up on some of the sleep he had lost during the whole ordeal.  
  
  
  
Miguel yawned in the recreation room, and took another sip of his coffee. He had been sitting here most of the day, and he was getting bored. He knew he had probably had too much coffee, at least seven cups, but there had been nothing else to do all day.  
  
He slumped back into the couch in his casual clothes, after setting the cup down on the table in front of him. The sling was a little awkward, but it was more comfortable than bashing his shoulder into things. He had a bandage wrapped around his ribs under his grey T-shirt, but that didn't bother him either. It actually made him feel warmer.  
  
He looked down at himself, and found himself feeling strange. Everyone around him was wearing a seaQuest uniform, and here he was dressed like this; grey T-shirt, a pair of loose khaki slacks, his black and white running sneakers, and his loose backwards red hat which he usually wore when relaxing off-duty. It helped to keep his hair out of his face... plus, he liked it.  
  
He yawned again, feeling the boredom creep up on him once more, and smiled at a friendly ensign who acknowledged him upon passing.  
  
"Hey, Migs!" called a voice he knew too well from the doorway. He glanced up to see Tim O'Neill, in full uniform, walking towards him. "I thought I'd come down and see you quickly. I'm in the middle of a shift, but it's quiet."  
  
Miguel sometimes hated his nickname, Migs... he thought it made him sound like a cat or something, but it was good to hear sometimes. He didn't care when his best friend Tim said it, but when other people had begun picking it up, it had started to bug him a little. He decided he was just being arrogant, and ignored the thought.  
  
"Hi," he welcomed his friend as he sat beside him on the couch. "How's things up on the bridge?"  
  
"They're dull," Jim Brody offered upon joining them with an apple in his hands. He too was dressed in his uniform. "Well, at least it was this morning."  
  
"Mind if I join ya'?" Tony Piccolo asked, as he swung a chair around, and sat on it backwards, leaning his crossed arms on the back of the piece of furniture. He chewed happily on some gum, which he popped loudly from time to time.  
  
Lucas Wolenczak walked up to them, taking a seat opposite Miguel and Tim.  
  
Finally, Miguel thought, another person in casual gear! I was beginning to feel outnumbered.  
  
"So, how are you?" Jim asked, taking a large bite out of the apple, and chewing on the fruit contently whilst he awaited an answer.  
  
Miguel glanced around at the people looking at him, and smiled. "Well, the sling's a little awkward, and I'm bored out of my mind sitting here all day... but besides that, I'm great." He laughed, along with Tim.  
  
Lucas cleared his throat. "I didn't get a chance before to say thanks," he said, and then added, "Thanks."  
  
Miguel inclined his head a little. "It was the least I could do."  
  
"Too bad I was out cold," Jim mumbled miserably from his seat near Lucas. "Or I probably would've done it."  
  
The five men sat for a while, and just debated with Jim whether or not the outcome would have been different had he been conscious or not. After a while, they decided they would've probably turned out the same anyway. It just seemed fate that Miguel would save the day on this occasion.  
  
They sat for at least ten minutes, laughing and joking, discussing the man named Steven who had caused all of their recent trouble. He would be sent to a detainment facility in Washington, where he would undergo therapy from a leading psychologist, who would also be telepathic. Miguel thought it a little ironic, and amusing, and he shared that with his friends.  
  
Tony cocked his head at Miguel, his brow furrowing, and in his rich Brooklyn accent finally said, "Does gettin' shot hurt?"  
  
They laughed for a little while, before Miguel finally replied, "Like hell. Why?"  
  
Tony contemplated silently for a moment, then explained, "Because I've been looking for a way out of cleaning the moon pool, and-,"  
  
"Tony!" Miguel cut him short, launching a conveniently placed cushion towards the short Seaman.  
  
Tony ducked under the blow, and started to laugh. Lucas joined him in the humour, and before long, they were all enjoying their long awaited happiness after their ordeal.  
  
Miguel was thankful deep down to have such great friends, and he knew that he was special in some small way. If he wasn't, then why did these amazing people give him the time of day whenever he beckoned? He enjoyed the laughter they shared, and let his thoughts wash over him, and finally disappear.  
  
He just sat with Tim on the couch in the recreation room, and laughed along with Jim, Tony and Lucas, even continuing to laugh when his side began to ache a little.  
  
He didn't know how long they sat there for, simply joking amongst themselves, but Miguel enjoyed the moment whilst it lasted. Before long, he knew he would be back on the bridge of the most powerful ship in the UEO's mighty fleet, working hard at his sensor station, and entering another dangerous mission, risking his life for the friends he loved so much.  
  
But, he supposed, I'll just have to deal with that when I come to it.  
  
  
  
THE END 


End file.
